


Black Jared and the Proper Molly

by Syls Darkplace (sylsdarkplace)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Instability, Pirates, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylsdarkplace/pseuds/Syls%20Darkplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most ruthless and notorious pirate of the Caribbean, Black Jared, thought he was just getting a pretty bed warmer when he made a deal for gold and the young man's body on the deck of the British merchantman. The boy shyly succumbed to his advances one night only to turn and viciously murder a whore in a jealous rage, and ballgown, the next. Nothing could have prepared the pirate captain for the young tutor’s sly intelligence or mercurial nature. At first, he rolled with the boy’s changing moods, but, with his crew’s warnings ringing in his ears, a time of reckoning was soon at hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

“This thing of darkness, I Acknowledge mine.” – The Tempest

_Beyond here be dragons and madness …_

 

The sun glistened on the waves like diamonds strewn across the sea. Jared squinted against the glare as _The Huntress_ came alongside the larger ship. He swung over to the deck of the British merchantman with a cutlass in hand and a broad smile on his face. Experience had taught him that the cutlass was no more intimidating than the smile. He strode up to the captain of the other ship, and the smile grew wider.

“William,” he said. Capt. William Stoddard. Jared had never called the man by his Christian name before, but he’d once called him Captain when Jared was barely out of his teens. It had been the longest three years of his life. Stoddard hadn’t been an unusually bad captain. He’d flogged his crewmen for relatively minor slights, fed them wormy meat, and shorted their wages, but that was typical behavior for such petty tyrants. Jared still wore the scars of Stoddard’s whip across his broad back. This was going to be enjoyable, Jared thought.

“Padalecki.” The shorter man pulled himself up to this full height, but it was useless. He was a good six inches shorter than Jared and had developed a belly in the five years since Jared jumped ship in Jamaica. “Or should I say, Black Jared? I should have broken you when I had the chance.”

“Big words from such a small man,” said Jared with a smile that never faltered. “A man who has already given up his ship without a fight.”

Stoddard bristled at the words. “I have passengers to think of,” he said.

Jared looked at the group huddled on the deck to one side of the crew. “I see that,” he said. His own men, with the exception of the few brigands guarding the _HMS Dover_ ’s passengers and hands, were searching the ship for valuables and inventorying the cargo. “Who are they?”

“Alsby, the new governor of Jamaica and his family,” Stoddard said. “You’d do well to let them alone, you know.”

“Mmm, these island dictators are a thorn in my side,” Jared said thoughtfully as he looked over the small group. There was a red-faced man with a powdered wig, undoubtedly the governor, a tall middle-aged woman with her arms around two teenage girls, three smaller children, a girl and two boys, huddled between them, and standing slightly apart a young man with dark blond hair. Jared left Stoddard in the custody of one of his crewman and strode over to the group of passengers. The woman and girls were plain with faded yellow hair and pasty skin. They were unusually boney and tall for well-bred women. Must be in the blood, Jared thought. Still, they might prove useful to the crew.

“You get your eyes off my wife and daughters, you cur,” the governor said.

“You bark awfully loudly for a dog with no teeth,” Jared said to the man as his eyes slid over to the young man standing to the side and saw the smirk that pulled at his pretty lips. The boy kept his eyes down, but Jared took in the long lashes and sprinkle of freckles across his cheeks. He was definitely not a member of the governor’s family.

“Who’s this?” Jared asked.

“My children’s tutor,” Alsby said. “Do with him as you like.”

_I plan to_ , Jared thought, but he looked back at the ugly little man. “I’ll do as I like with all of you.” Jared glanced back at the tutor, and there was a frown on the man’s face now. His jaw was set tight.

Christian, his first mate, approached. “Sir,” Christian, said, “the cargo is mostly brick and finished textiles and the governor’s household belongings. Some of it very nice though. We can get a good price for it.”

“What?” Alsby exclaimed. “How dare you ...”

Quick as a whip, Jared backhanded him hard enough to send the man to his knees. The wife pulled her daughters closer, and Jared was interested to see the smirk return to the tutor’s face. “I dare because I’m in control here. Whether you live or die is up to me and don’t forget it. We take what is of value, Sir,” Jared said with a gentle voice, “whether it is your wife’s good china or your daughters’ maidenheads.”

“You filthy son of a ...” was all Alsby got out before Jared’s boot connected with his gut. The man let out a woof of air and began to cough.

“Captain,” the tutor said in a low, steady voice. Jared looked over and met eyes the color of emeralds. He vowed to himself that he’d have the young man that night. “I have a proposal for you.”

Jared raised his eyebrows. “Do you?” He motioned the young man away from the group. “What’s your name?”

“Jensen. Ackles,” he said.

“And what kind of proposal could you possibly have for me ... Jensen?” Jared leaned forward, and the young man’s eyes widened slightly before he lifted his chin and met Jared’s gaze.

“Allow the women and children safe passage to Jamaica.”

“And the governor?”

“He doesn’t reach port.”

That fit with Jared’s plan well enough, but the women ... well, they weren’t much to look at but his crew deserved some fun before they reached Jamaica. “What do I get?”

“Me.” The young man’s voice was low and a flush colored his cheeks.

Jared felt heat in his groin. Yes, he’d planned to have the beautiful young man anyway, but how much nicer to have him willingly. “Hmm, but what’s in it for my crew? You expect me to pass you around?”

“No.” A muscle jumped in Jensen’s jaw, and Jared thought he saw something spark in his eyes for a moment. “There’s something else for you and your crew. Gold.”

“There’s no gold on this ship. They’d have found it,” Jared said.

“There is,” Jensen insisted. “And it’s substantial.”

“Why would a merchantman bound from England have a substantial amount of gold on it?”

“The reason is of no consequence, but I assure you, I saw it loaded.”

Jared thought for a moment. Pirate though he was, his word was his bond. He didn’t want to agree to any deal that this kid might welch on, though he didn’t appear to be a fool, and he was certainly no coward. Still, Jared thought, like it or not, he could get what he wanted out of the young man. “All right,” Jared said. “Safe passage for the women and children, the governor doesn’t reach port in exchange for the gold and you.”

“Do what you want with the gold, but the deal for me is with you and you alone,” Jensen said.

Jared smiled. “Don’t worry, I don’t like to share.” He held out his hand, and Jensen shook it. His grip was strong, but his skin was soft as a woman’s. I’m going to enjoy this, Jared thought. “So, the gold?”

“Have your men look under the brick in the stern.”

Jared felt his heart quicken in his chest. “Christian! Have the men check the brick in the stern.” A glance at Alsby’s suddenly pale face told him that the tutor was telling the truth. The almost forgotten Capt. Stoddard examined the toes of his shoes.

“Now then,” Jared said, “that’s a lovely necklace you’re wearing, Madame.” Alsby’s wife wore a pearl necklace with a fine cameo hanging from it. He lifted it from her pale bosom with the tip of his cutlass. “Is that a family heirloom?”

Her hand rose toward it, but shied away from the blade, and tears stood in her eyes as she nodded.

“I’ll tell you what,” Jared said as he approached, “I’ll let you keep it if you turn over the rest of your jewels.” Of course, he had no intention of letting her keep it, but cooperation was so much easier and her outrage so much more satisfying when he would break the deal.

“She doesn’t have anything else,” Alsby said with a warning look at his wife.

“Doesn’t she?” Jared said quietly. “Sparks, Tibbs, search the ladies.”

“No, wait,” Jensen said.

Jared felt a surge of irritation at the young man now. “What?”

“Just, let me talk to them,” he said and approached the women. He spoke in low tones to them.

“Shut up, Ackles, it’s none of your concern,” Alsby said.

“Still your tongue or I’ll remove it for you,” Jared said. The man blanched further and fell silent. Jared couldn’t hear what Jensen said to the women but the eldest daughter nodded and turned away. She lifted her skirt and when she dropped it, she handed Jensen a small cloth bag. The younger daughter and wife followed suit.

“You don’t have to do this, Mr. Ackles,” the eldest daughter blurted out. Tears stood in her eyes.

Jensen shook his head. “Never mind, Polly. It’s all right.” He walked back to Jared and handed him the bags of jewelry.

“You could do better, Mr. Ackles,” Jared said.

Anger flared in the young man’s eyes. “It isn’t like that.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your assistance, but I think I can handle it from here,” Jared said coolly. “Caro, lock him in my cabin.”

An young African crewman with close-cropped hair, large eyes and a generous mouth came forward and took Jensen by the arm to lead him away. “Don’t forget our deal,” the young man said with a glance back over his shoulder.

“I’ll not forget, Molly*,” Jared whispered before turning back to the captain. “Now then, Stoddard.” It was late in the evening, but the sun was still hot. Sweat trickled down the middle of Jared’s back. “Tell me, what is the punishment for a crewman who takes an extra ration?”

Stoddard looked confused. “What?”

“Come, sir, it’s not a trick question,” Jared said. He paced in front of the man. “You have commanded ships for many a year, and you have been forced to discipline countless men. So, what is the punishment for taking more than one’s ration?”

“Well, I …” Stoddard looked from Jared to Christian who stood beside him. “I can’t say that …”

“Mr. Kane, do you recall the punishment?” Jared asked.

“Yes, sir, it was flogging,” Christian said.

“That’s right. It was,” Jared said. He stepped closer to Stoddard. The blood had drained from the man’s face and his eyes darted for something to look at but Jared. “Tell me that you recall the number of lashes, William.”

“I …”

“How many lashes did you lay upon me, Captain Stoddard?” Jared growled.

There was a pause before man answered. His voice shook, “Twenty.”

“Twenty? Was it? I believe I was unconscious. Was it twenty, Christian?”

“No,” the first mate answered. He crowded in beside Jared. “It was not, sir. It was forty.”

“Forty. Well …” Jared said quietly. “Why don’t we split the difference and make it thirty. After all, William isn’t a teenager.”

“Aye, sir,” Christian said. He grabbed Stoddard’s arm. “Tibbs, some help here.”

“No!” Stoddard shouted. “No, no, no!”

Jared went to the captain’s cabin and found the flogger, as he knew he would, hanging beside the door. He paused a moment to look around the cabin at the fine linens and porcelain wash basin. It was better equipped than his own. Stoddard had done well for himself starving his crew and shorting their pay.

Jared returned to the deck, and Stoddard had been stripped to the waist and his hands bound and tied to the mast. The older man’s fleshy, white back seemed to glow in the sunlight.

“I’ll be quick, shall I?” Jared said. “Wouldn’t want your fair skin to burn in this sun.” He brought the flogger down across the man’s back, leaving stripes across it.

Stoddard jerked against the restraints. “I’ll see you lot hanged!”

Jared laughed. “I think not, sir!” He lashed the man again and again, taking out all the anger and humiliation of the boy he’d been under Stoddard’s command. By the time he got to twenty, Stoddard had quit screaming and was hanging limp against the mast. Jared threw the flogger down. “Untie him, Tibbs.”

Jared grabbed Stoddard’s arm when he’d been cut down and dragged him across the deck. “Can you swim, William?”

“What? Yes, but …”

“Good, good, then don’t say I didn’t give you a chance,” Jared said as he tossed the man over the rail. “If the sharks don’t eat you, perhaps your crew will save your sorry carcass,” he yelled at the figure flailing in the water. “But I wouldn’t bet on it,” he added under his breath.

While Jared had been dealing with Stoddard, his crew had been transferring goods from _The Dover_ to _The Huntress_. The sky was lit with the bright pinks and purples and golds of the sinking sun. He was hot and thirsty and not a little out of sorts from his encounter with his former captain. He was so anxious to get back to his ship that he nearly forgot that he needed to dispatch Alsby.

He drew his cutlass and approached the group where they still huddled on deck. “Polly, you seem a sensible girl. Take your mother and siblings below deck,” he ordered.

She nodded, but Mrs. Alsby decided to suddenly be stupid. “No, I’ll not leave my husband,” she protested.

“Then you will die together,” Jared said and raised the cutlass.

“No,” Polly pleaded. “Mother, come, please. The little ones need you. There is nothing you can do for Father.”

“Listen to your daughter or not,” Jared said. “I have no preference, but make haste. I have things to do ... like your Mr. Ackles.”

Polly, in the midst of hustling her siblings away, stopped short and looked back at Jared. “Please, don’t hurt him, sir. He’s doing this for us.”

Jared raised an eyebrow in surprise at the girl; then, smiled broadly. “Don’t feel guilty, girl. I’ll make sure he enjoys himself.” He winked at her then and laughed at the horrified expression on her face.

“Captain, all’s aboard,” Christian called.

Jared turned and slashed the cutlass across Alsby’s throat. Blood fountained across his ivory shirt and taupe waistcoat. His hand made it halfway to his gurgling throat before his body crumpled to the deck and lay with dead eyes turned toward the sunset. Jared then leaned down and pulled the bloody cravat from the corpse.

Jared bounded to the deck of _The Huntress_ as sails snapped overhead. “Well done, Christian. Is everything stowed?”

“Yes, sir,” the blue-eyed man said. “I put the lady’s trunk in your cabin. I thought you’d like to go through it yourself.”

“Excellent, and my guest?” Jared took a pan of water from a rain barrel and scrubbed at his hands.

“I gave him a cup of wine,” Christian raised an eyebrow. “He’s quite genteel … for a Molly.”

“Yes, and he’s mine,” Jared said.

Christian took a step back. “Of course, Captain.”

“I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings, Chris. I made a deal with the boy.”

“Right, no misunderstandings.”

“Good,” Jared headed toward his cabin. “You can handle the rest.”

He unbarred the door and stepped inside, locking it behind him. Jensen stood at the window watching the merchantman grow smaller as _The Huntress_ sped away.

“All settled in?” Jared asked with a smirk.

Jensen turned toward him and looked up through his lashes. Despite the smirks and bravado on deck, the young man looked nothing but shy and unsure now. Jared liked it. With each of Jared’s steps forward, the boy took a step back until he bumped into the table. Jensen’s thick lashes fluttered over verdant eyes, as Jared began to unbutton the lace collar at the boy’s throat. He felt Jensen swallow against his fingers.

“You were right,” Jared said. “The crew is happy with the gold. The women and children are safe and sound ... even your dear Polly,” Jared said. He pushed the shirt off the young man’s shoulders, which were creamy and colored with golden freckles like his cheeks. He felt Jensen tremble under his hands as he kissed his temple.

“And Alsby?” Jensen asked.

Jared reached in his pocket and pulled the bloody cravat out. He offered it to Jensen who took it from him. He looked up at Jared with a strange smile before smashing their lips together. His free hand hooked around Jared’s waist and his fingers dug into the muscle there. However appealing he’d thought the shy boy had been, this fierce one made the blood rush to his groin. He quickly unbuttoned Jensen’s trousers.

“You’ve done this before,” Jared growled.

Jensen shook his head. “No, no, I just ...”

Before he could finish, Jared spun him around and shoved him over the table. He yanked Jensen’s pants off his hips, exposing the firm globes of his ass. He ran his calloused hands over the smooth skin of the young man’s back and down over his buttocks. Jared, who was used to marked and jaded whores, marveled at the sight laid out over his table. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had anything so fresh and unblemished.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. He pulled Jensen’s cheeks apart with his thumbs to reveal the puckered flesh hidden within like a small, pink rosebud. Jared’s cock was so hard, throbbing in his pants, and he had to get in there. He wanted to just drag his dick out and bury in the boy’s body, but this was too lovely to damage right away. He had a feeling he’d want this again and again before he tired of it.

He sucked a finger wet with saliva and pushed it against the tightly furled flesh. Jensen’s head came up off the table, and he made a surprised sound.

“No, you haven’t done this, have you? So tight,” Jared said. He fucked his finger in and out of the hot, silky tissue. Jensen’s head fell back to the table with a thud. His face was turned to the side and color was high in cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut, and he panted between parted lips. Jared momentarily regretted not getting more of those lips. Later, he thought. He leaned over the young man as he continued to finger fuck him. “God I want to be inside you so bad. I’m going to be,” he breathed in his ear. “You want that?”

Jensen’s eyes were open then, wide and glazed. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he mumbled.

Jared kissed his ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t forget who you belong to.”

The young man’s eyes slammed shut, and he whined. Jared laughed deep and dirty against his neck and straightened. He pulled his finger from the boy’s body and slicked his fingers with oil from a bottle in the nearby cabinet. He knew of men who fucked and raped without anything to ease the way, but their dicks must be tougher than his. He didn’t mind a little pain with his pleasure, but he had limits. Besides, he wanted to take care of this new toy.

He shoved two fingers deep into the boy’s hole, and the muscle clenched around them. He held them still until it began to relax and began fucking him again. Jensen was gripping the edge of the table, and his breathing was ragged. Anxious to bury his cock in the boy’s ass, Jared shoved another finger in alongside the first two, and the boy made a sound that was something like a sob but a lot like a moan.

Jared was going to have this whether the younger man enjoyed it or not, but the very idea that he might ratcheted up Jared’s arousal. The notion of this beautiful boy wanting to be fucked made Jared want to plow him all the more, and he couldn’t wait. He had to have him, but first he reached under Jensen’s hips – he had to know – and felt Jensen’s hardened dick. He briefly pressed his lips to the center of Jensen’s back.

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

He drew his fingers out and slicked his cock with the oil. Without pausing, he pushed the head of his cock into the slick heat.

“Fuck,” he said, and Jensen cried out as the rim of his hole stretched obscenely around Jared’s cock. “You’re so tight. Does it hurt?”

Jensen’s knuckles were white where he gripped the table and a whine escaped him. Jared paused only a moment to let him adjust and began fucking into the crushing flesh.

No pussy had ever felt this good – nothing, no mouth nor ass – and beautiful and clean. Jared almost felt like he must have done something good to deserve this. Whatever reason Jensen had for making this bargain, Jared was pretty sure he’d gotten the better end of the deal. Unless ... unless the boy really did want this too. He reached around again and took Jensen’s cock in his hand. The head was wet with precome. Jared slicked it up the shaft and began to stroke it in time to his thrusts.

Jensen gasped and lifted his head off the table. His hips tipped up, and his back arched. He pushed his ass back toward Jared and moaned just before his cock twitched in Jared’s hand. His hole gripped Jared’s aching flesh and pulled his climax from him. Jared saw stars as heat rushed up his spine like burning pitch. He’d come in dozens of bodies, but this felt different as he pumped hard and hot into Jensen’s ass. This would usually be the moment where he planned his getaway, but instead, he considered that he just might like to stay here awhile. This was his.

He pushed in until his balls were against Jensen’s ass and leaned across his back. He kissed Jensen’s neck and set his teeth against the skin hard enough to leave bruises. He ran his hands up Jensen’s belly and chest, smearing ejaculate across his skin. Arms crossed beneath Jensen’s chest, Jared leaned on his elbows. His cock began to soften, but Jared didn’t want to pull out just yet. He licked the shell of the boy’s ear.

“You’re beautiful ... inside and out,” Jared said. “And you’re mine.” He felt a shudder roll through the body beneath him. Then he stood and watched his prick slide from Jensen’s red, puffy hole, followed by a flood of his pearly seed. He felt a surge of possessiveness.

He stepped away, and Jensen remained prone over the table. Jared went to the cabinet in the corner and poured water from the pewter pitcher into the basin. Using a rag, he washed his hands and dick and tucked back in.

“Clean yourself up,” he said. “I’m going to go find something to eat.”

Jensen didn’t move, and it was then that Jared realized the boy still gripped the bloody cravat against the edge of the table. Jared pried his fingers loose and tried to take the stained cloth. Jensen yanked it back against his side.

“Okay, keep it,” Jared said with a shrug. He gazed down at the boy. His hair had come loose from its queue, and its sun kissed strands were spread across his back. From this angle, were his shoulders not quite so broad, his legs not quite so strong, he’d look like a girl lying there in submission. “But be ready to dine when I get back.”

  
Jared was balancing a platter piled high with cheese and rye bread, mango and coconut, and star fruit and boiled eggs from the ship’s resident clucks. He stopped short at the sight that met him upon entering his cabin.

The lady’s trunk lie open, and Jensen sat amongst the petticoats and camisoles and dresses spilling across the floor in a dark chocolate colored silk robe trimmed in peacock blue. A lady’s fan was unfurled in his hand. Lying against his pale skin was a stone the size of a quail egg and the color of his eyes. It was surrounded by diamonds and hung on a braided gold chain around his neck.

Jared took a moment to absorb in the incongruity of the scene and catch his breath. He pushed his arousal down. He really wanted something to eat and a good cup of wine before he took the boy to his bed. He wasn’t sure what to think about Jensen’s chosen attire, but he looked beautiful in it.

“I see you’ve found more treasure,” Jared said as he set the platter on the table.

Jensen just looked up at him with those big, green eyes and a slight smile. Jared wanted to fall upon him and devour him. The strength of his desire unnerved him a little, and he turned to the table.

“Are you ready to eat, then?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jensen said. He rose and tied his hair back with a length of blue velvet ribbon. He sat down at the table and ran his hand over the scarred wood. Jared wondered if he could feel the heat of his body still in the planks.

Jared took a clay bottle of wine from the cabinet and knocked the mouth off with his cutlass. He emptied the bottle into two cups and set one before Jensen.

“Help yourself,” he motioned to the platter. “It’s not much, but it isn’t spoiled.”

“Better than what I had on _The Dover_ ,” Jensen said. He lifted the cup and took a long drink.

Jared watched as Jensen picked up a piece of mango and bit into it. The way the young man’s full lips wrapped around the fleshy fruit made heat settle in Jared’s groin. His throat felt dry, and he looked down at his own plate.

“Surely the governor ate better than this,” he said.

“I didn’t eat with the governor though, did I?” There was an impertinent lilt to Jensen’s voice.

“No?”

“No, I’m not his son after all,” Jensen said. He picked up the sharp little knife on the platter and cut off a wedge of cheese. “Wouldn't want to be.”

“Why's that?”

Jensen chewed a bite of cheese and looked at Jared with narrowed eyes. “You threatened to take the girls' maidenheads.”

“Yes.”

“There were none to take. Their father saw to that.”

“I see. It all makes more sense now,” Jared said.

“Don't make assumptions,” Jensen said. “There were numerous reasons to hate Alsby.”

“Oh,” Jared said. He cracked the shell of an egg and began to peel it. “And perhaps it wasn't so much a crush as gratitude that Polly felt for you.”

Jensen shrugged. “Young girls get crushes on their tutors all the time. It doesn't mean anything.”

Jared chuckled. “Maybe not to her tutor.” Jared frowned then. “Still, it's a shame that she's ruined. She'll have a difficult time finding a husband as it is. When he finds she isn't a virgin ...”

“Why should he know?” Jensen asked. “These things can be faked.”

“Is that what you advised her?” Jared asked in surprise. “You talked to the girls about this?”

“It was my job to educate them,” Jensen said as he sliced a star fruit.

Jared was speechless. He'd had some bawdy conversations with whores, but he couldn't quite imagine discussing something like that with a young lady. Yet here was this educated young man teaching girls about how they could fake virginity on their wedding night. Jared didn't know what to say so he ate his egg and watched Jensen's mouth as it closed around another bite of fruit. His gaze traveled down along the line of Jensen's throat. The robe had slid off one freckled shoulder, and the light caught the sparkling necklace hanging around his neck.

“You can wear that,” Jared said pointing at the emerald with his knife. “But it isn't yours.”

Jensen tipped his head and laid down his knife. “Would you tell your horse that the reins don't belong to him?”

Jared felt the thrill of possession twist in his gut again and took a deep breath. “Not a perfect metaphor, but I get your meaning,” he said.

“Do you? I wonder,” Jensen said. He drained his wine cup and rose. As he crossed to the bed, he pulled the ribbon from his hair. He scooted back onto the bed and leaned on his hands. The robe had fallen off both shoulders, and Jared was surprised by how muscular his upper arms and shoulders were. He wanted to sink his teeth into them, leave his mark there.

Jared found himself unable to keep to his seat. He walked to the bed and gazed down at the boy stretched out before him. To have this in his bed whenever he liked … he marveled at his good fortune.

“Well, you are an enthusiastic if inexperienced mount,” Jared said. “Let's try to remedy that.”

  

~~~  
* Molly – an effeminate boy, a sodomite 


	2. Chapter 2

 

  
  


Jared came awake with a start. There was a weight holding his arm down and something wrapped around his legs. It took him a moment to realize it was Jensen. His face was pressed into the curve of Jared's neck and their legs slotted together. On the rare occasion Jared fell asleep with a whore, he was quick to extricate himself from their tentacle-like cling, so he was surprised that he wasn't annoyed to be so encumbered in his own bed. He was slick with sweat where they lay together at the side and hip. He ought to want the boy out of his bed now, but the remembered image of his hot, wet mouth swallowing down Jared's cock was enough to make him turn his head and press a soft kiss to his damp brow. Jensen snuffled but didn't wake.

Jared fell back into the memory. He saw those hungry jade eyes looking up at him and soft, kiss-swollen lips wrapped around his thick shaft. He’d tried to make Jared feel good, but sometimes he'd gag and cough. While Jared would have gotten angry with such a novice whore, Jensen's willingness and beauty and submission was enough to just about drive Jared crazy. Jensen wasn't experienced at sucking cock, but he'd learn, Jared thought. He'd enjoy teaching him because watching Jensen swallow his seed was perhaps even better than filling his ass with it. He drifted off again with his dick half hard and filthy thoughts of the things he planned to do to his boy floating through his head.

When he awoke again, he was alone. Not only was the bed empty, but Jensen wasn’t in the cabin. Jared jumped up and yanked his clothes on before storming out onto the deck. He spotted Jensen leaning on the railing. Jamaica lay as a flyspeck on the horizon. He was wearing nothing but the silk robe and an old pair of boots that Jared had thrown in the corner. There was something obscene about the picture he presented with his hair blowing free in the stiff morning breeze. As Jared stalked across the deck, he knew that a dozen pairs of eyes were surreptitiously watching him. Without a word, he grabbed Jensen’s arm in a vice like grip and dragged him back to the cabin where he tossed him on the bed.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

Jensen dropped his head and looked up through his lashes. “Getting some fresh air?”

He had the urge to backhand the pretense off that pretty face but held off. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

Jensen slid back on the bed and raised his foot. “Take my boot off?”

“I’m not your fucking valet,” Jared growled. Despite his annoyance, his cock was growing hard at the sight of Jensen in his bed.

“No,” Jensen said. He slid back to the edge of the bed and nuzzled his face against Jared’s groin through the fabric of his trousers. “No, you aren’t.”

Jared almost choked on his own spit. He groaned and tangled his fingers in Jensen’s hair as he unbuttoned Jared’s trousers and pulled out his cock. He licked a stripe up the underside.

“I know I’m not very good at this,” he said, “but I’ll do better.” It sounded like a plea more than a promise. He was looking up at Jared with those huge eyes.

“Aye,” Jared said, “you will.”

Jensen smeared precome down the length of Jared’s shaft and stroked him before suckling the head between his full, rosy lips. Jared rolled his hips forward a little – insistent but not too deep – and Jensen’s lashes fluttered. Based on their brief time together, Jared suspected the boy liked to be used and controlled, and he could definitely work with that. In fact, pretty as this picture was, he needed more. He pulled his cock from those luscious lips, and Jensen looked up in surprise.

“Lay back,” Jared said. He dropped to his knees next to the low bed and pulled Jensen’s ass to the edge. He pushed Jensen’s legs up over his shoulders and just seeing that pretty, pink hole made Jared’s cock spurt more precome, which he slicked along the length. Jensen was watching him with hooded eyes. His chest rose and fell with quick pants. Jared pressed the head of his cock to the still-puffy hole, and a long wail was ripped from Jensen as Jared shoved deep into him.

“You like that?” Jared asked.

Jensen just whined and dug his fingers into Jared’s shoulders. Jared chuckled and pulled out, watching as the rim of flesh clung to his cock as though not wanting to let it go. He spat at the joining of their bodies before pushing back in to help slick the way and began to set a firm, steady pace. Jensen hummed in approval, but when Jared gave his hips an extra bit of tip and force, Jensen’s eyes flew open and he gasped. Jared did it again and again until Jensen was moaning like a whore and squirming on the bed, his dick drooling a puddle of precome onto his belly.

Jared was pretty sure he’d never seen another human being this provocatively gorgeous. He’d fucked plenty of women, but who knew when they were really feeling pleasure and when they were faking it for the pay or favors? He’d fucked a few men, but none had ever reacted like this from just his cock. And none – man or woman – was this beautiful writhing on his dick or eating a mango or standing at the ship’s rail.

Suddenly, Jensen arched off the bed and ropes of come splattered across his belly and chest. His mouth opened on a silent cry and his eyes crashed shut. Jared was going to have finger-shaped bruises on his arms later, but he grinned as he watched Jensen fall apart. He was trembling and gasping for air, his muscles clenching hard around Jared’s cock, when Jared felt his balls draw up impossibly tight, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. He bottomed out in Jensen, come pulsing and dick twitching relentlessly.

When he opened his eyes, Jensen was smiling sleepily up at him. Jared let his cock slide from Jensen’s ass and sat back on his heels. He lifted the boy’s feet and pulled his old boots from them, and Jensen scooted back onto the bed. Jared stood then and tucked his prick back into his trousers. He sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed the young man’s hair back from his damp forehead.

“Don’t go out on deck dressed that way again,” he said. “The crew knows you’re off limits, but lust-blind men will do stupid and desperate things.” He shouldn’t have to say this. He was sure Jensen knew those things. He wasn’t an idiot. He wanted to ask Jensen for the truth. He wanted to know if the boy was playing some game with him, but, Jesus, he looked so lovely lying there in Jared’s bed naked and flushed from pleasure. Jared ran his thumb over a freckled cheek. “Promise. Don’t do something stupid like that again. I won’t share you with anyone.”

Jensen smiled like a cat with cream and nodded.

  
Jared had left Jensen asleep in his bed and gone ashore to oversee the sale of cargo they’d plundered from _The Dover._ He and Christian got a good price for the finished textiles and the larger furnishings taken from Alsby. They paid the crew and everyone went their separate ways to sell smaller loot or find diversion. It wasn’t long, however, before many of them found themselves in The Palm and Four Tavern with tankards of ale or bottles of rum before them.

Jared was at a table with Christian and Sparks when three more of his men stumbled in and all were clearly well in their cups. They pulled up chairs and ordered ale.

Carver pulled out a deck of cards and smacked the edge against the table top. “Game of loo, mates?”

“Not me,” Jared said. Carver was a bit of a sharp and a mountain of a man. He wasn’t as tall as Jared, but he was stocky, barrel-chested, and fearless. Not only did Jared hated losing to the crew, but Carver was one of the few that would be a real challenge in a fight.

“Aw, come on, Cap. Just one game,” Carver said with a grin.

“You know I don’t play with crew,” Jared said and looked the man in the eye. “Better all the way around. Besides, how would it look if I took all your money?”

Carver snorted and began to deal a hand to the others. Jared leaned his chair back on two legs and sipped his rum, which was giving him a warm, muzzy feeling. Should have something to eat, he thought. He wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t see Carver already palming cards.

“That’s a right pretty treasure you got yourself, Cap,” said Greasy.

The others at the table fell quiet and stared at their hands. Only Christian shot Greasy a warning look.

“Excuse me?” Jared said.

Greasy looked around the table uncertainly then. “I just ... I don’t mean nothing by it, sir.”

“No?” He let the legs of his chair drop to the floor with a thud and leaned forward.

“No,” Greasy insisted. He looked around at the others for support, but they were all looking elsewhere. “I was just talkin’.”

“Well, don’t,” Jared said. He knew there was menace in his voice, and his hand had gone to the hilt of his cutlass. “None of you.”

“Talking ain’t Greasy’s strong point, Captain,” Christian said. “You know that. Don’t listen to half he says and ignore the rest.” The first mate gave him a nod, and Jared dropped his hand from his weapon.

“That’s right,” Carver said. “Talks just to hear his own head rattle, he does.” He slapped Greasy on the shoulder and the filthy man gave a wan smile and looked away from Jared.

The men laughed and resumed their card game, but Jared still felt distaste and anger. He didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. It’s not like crewmen hadn’t lusted after some woman or boy that he’d brought to his bed before. Jared put it down to the rum, but something didn’t sit right.

After a little more liquor, he allowed the men to talk him into joining in on a game, and by the time they were finished he was ahead and had a pretty redhead on his lap. She had good teeth and green eyes that were just a shade off, but he wasn’t sure from what.

“Why don’t we take a walk to my room,” she suggested. “It’s a just a few doors down.” She gave him a playful kiss and wiggled her ass against his thickening cock.

“Yeah,” he said. He stood with her in his arms and set her on her feet. Tiny and delectable she was. “Why don’t we do that?”

“Have fun, Cap,” Carver said.

“Yeah, don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” another called. He just laughed. They all had a girl or two hanging off them – even Greasy. It didn’t take looks, just money, to get a girl in Port Royal. Jared just got the prettiest.

The moon was full and bright, casting long shadows across the street but giving enough light to see with some clarity. He had an arm loosely around her shoulders and she had hers around his waist as they began to make their way down the street.

“I’m just down here, Captain,” she said, “just beyond the alley there.”

“We should have brought more rum,” Jared said as he drained the bottle and tossed it aside with a clatter.

“That’s all right,” she said. “I have a bottle of wine in my room. I’ve been saving it for someone special.”

“Have you then?” Jared grinned. These girls could be so naïve or so full of shite. He suspected this one was still hopeful of finding something better, and so she would for the night, he thought. It was then that she pulled from beneath his arm with a jerk, and it took him a moment to realize what had happened – he caught a glimpse of her disappearing into the alley, a tall shape behind her. She cried out, and Jared lunged forward into the open mouth of the alley.

The girl’s cry ended on a strangled choke, and Jared struggled to understand what was happening in the pale moonlight. The whore’s bodice was dark with the blood gushing from her throat, and her sightless eyes stared up at the sky as she slid to the ground. The tall figure in rustling silk still held the knife that killed her. It turned toward him, and he caught the glint of the emerald that lay against the pale skin. His breath hitched.

Jensen, in a silk gown, his hair pulled up, walked toward him with a gleaming dagger in his hand. “You would leave me in your bed and take up with a whore?” The voice was low, menacing. Shadowed eyes were deep, dark wells.

Jared felt adrenaline spike through him and was suddenly quite sober. He held his hands up, palms out. “Aw, no, not if I’d known that you would care.”

“How could I not care?” Jensen’s head tipped down, and his lip curled. “You think I’d want you after you’ve been with some filthy slut?”

Suddenly, it hit Jared that Jensen had just murdered a girl. “You did this for me?”

“I did it for me,” he said.

Jared stepped forward and held out his hand. “Give me the knife,” he said.

“Why should I?” Jensen asked. He took a step back, but Jared followed.

“Because I won’t bugger you until you do,” Jared said. “Come on, now.” He moved forward quickly and grasped the wrist of Jensen’s knife hand. He turned it downward and pushed Jensen against the alley wall. Gripping him around the waist with his free arm, he crushed their lips together. Jensen moaned into his mouth and tangled his fingers in Jared’s hair. Why indeed was he going off with a whore when he’d had this in his bed? Jared pushed Jensen against the brick wall. Even through the layers of silk, he could feel Jensen’s arousal.

“I underestimated you, pretty one,” Jared said when he broke the kiss. “Now, let’s fix your hair. I’m going to take you to a nice hotel and bed you.”

Jensen had been smart enough to cut the girl’s throat from behind, so the blood had sprayed the alleyway and not the sea green gown he wore. If the clerk at the second best hotel in Port Royal noticed there was anything strange about the tall, richly dressed lady with the expensive jewels, he had the self-preservation to not let on. Jared procured a bottle of rum from him along with the room key and practically dragged Jensen up the stairs.

He kicked the door shut behind him and threw Jensen onto the bed. Forgetting the bottle of rum beside them on the mattress, he shrugged off his jacket and pushed Jensen’s skirts up. He grinned when he found the boy didn’t wear a stitch of undergarments beneath.

“Now, what kind of lady are you?” he asked.

“I’m not a lady,” Jensen said with a sneer.

Jared laughed. “I see that.”

Jensen’s dick arched thick and flushed against his belly. Jared cupped the boy’s balls and rolled them in his palm. His arsehole looked wet and open. Jared ran a finger up his crack and found it was slick. He looked up into dark, hooded eyes.

“All ready for me?” he asked.

“I got tired of waiting,” Jensen said. His voice was low and raw with want.

Jared unbuttoned his trousers with mental images of Jensen in his bed fingering himself open, waiting for him. Poor frustrated boy. Jared was upon him quickly, thrusting fast and deep into his body. Jensen arched beneath him and cried out. Jared pounded into him with a snap of his hips each time that forced grunts and moans from him.

“I, I lied,” Jensen gasped.

“What … about?” Jared growled between clenched teeth.

“I did, agh, I did it for you.”

Jared looked down into those dark eyes, at those flushed, freckled cheeks. The tip of Jensen’s tongue flicked out over his lips. Jared put a little more bruising force behind the snap of his hips.

“You did, aye? You killed the girl for me?” He could feel tension pooling low in his groin. “Did you not want to share, pretty one? Hmm?” Jensen shook his head and panted. His eyes slammed shut as Jared thrust in. Jared smiled. “You think I’m yours? I belong to you?”

Jensen’s eyes opened, and he looked him straight in the eye. “Yes,” he gasped.

Jared’s balls drew up hard, and his back arched as his orgasm crashed over him. He heard his own moan from far away as his vision whited out. He pushed into Jensen’s body as far as he could, spilling his seed deep into the boy’s body. He was sure he knew who belonged to whom here, but when he opened his eyes, Jensen was smiling. His cock still lay hard and drooling against his belly.

“Touch me,” he said.

Jared’s cock still twitched in Jensen’s channel, and instead of touching the young man’s cock, he laid his palm on his flat belly in the puddle of precome.

“If you were a woman, I’d get you with child,” he said. He turned his hand then and grasped Jensen’s dick. The hard, fevered length slipped along his palm and fingers, and it jerked in his hand, shooting jets of come into the layers of petticoat. The sound that came from Jensen’s throat was feral.

Jared sat back on his heels, and he saw the kid wince as his cock slid free. The pirate sat there in the V of the young man’s thighs, gazing up the long, slightly bowed legs to the fucked open hole from which his come gushed. If he hadn’t just spent himself, he’d have another go at that.

“Ah, later,” he said. He turned and sat on the edge of the bed to pull his boots off. He should have known better than to turn his back on the boy because a moment later there was a rustle of silk, and he felt Jensen’s chest against his back and the cold blade of a dagger at his throat. Jared’s breath stilled in his chest as Jensen’s other arm slid around his shoulder. Jensen’s breath chuffed across his skin, and his mouth was hot against the back of Jared’s neck. Despite the threat of the blade at his throat, Jared felt his dick attempt to stir.

Jensen licked the shell of his ear. “You and I are two of a kind,” he said. “We get what we want by hook or by crook.”

Jared smiled at that. By God, the boy had balls like a bull. “And you want?”

“You,” Jensen said. “Just you. All of you.” His tongue flicked out again like a serpent’s into the grooves of Jared’s ear. Jared shuddered in pleasure, but he hadn’t lost his mind to it. He grabbed Jensen’s knife arm and pulled it away from his body as he rolled forward tossing Jensen over him and onto the floor. He landed in a swirl of silk and lace on his back. In an instant, Jared straddled him with his arms pinned above his head. Jensen grinned up at him, and then he laughed.

Jared was taken aback, but then laughed in return. This boy was dangerous and exciting. He bent down and kissed Jensen deep, exploring the wet cave of his mouth until they were both breathless. As he broke the kiss, he took the dagger from Jensen’s hand. Starting at the low neckline, he cut the dress and undergarments to the hem and pushed them off Jensen’s body. He lay there as though emerged from a chrysalis. Jared ran his hands over the pale, freckled skin accented by a soft blush. His gaze caught on the emerald that glittered against Jensen’s chest.

“May I keep it?” Jensen asked.

“I thought you wanted nothing but me?” Jared cocked an eyebrow.

Jensen gave him an unconvincing pout. “You ruined my dress.”

“Mmm, you’d like to be a lady?”

“No,” Jensen frowned, “I like my cock just fine. I have no desire to be courted or caged or treated like I’m made of porcelain. I …” He looked uncertain a moment. “I just like nice things.”

“In that case, I shall surround you with beautiful things.” Jared grinned, and Jensen returned the smile.

“Then take off your clothes, and I’ll start with you,” Jensen said. He watched with hungry eyes as Jared stripped his lean, muscular body out of his clothes. Jensen lay motionless on the floor with his arms still lying loose above his head. Jared knew now the passivity and compliance was just a part of the game. There might still be rum in his veins, but he wasn’t too drunk to see the slight curl on those luscious lips and the gleam in the lustful eyes.

Jared was amazed at how this vicious boy affected him because by the time he was naked, his cock was erect again. Jensen spread his legs and welcomed Jared back between them. This time, Jared slid in slowly, and Jensen sighed and pulled him into a kiss as he rutted against him. His thrusts were deep and slow, and Jensen buried his face against Jared’s neck. Jared angled his hips a little more and pushed deeper, and Jensen gasped.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Like that, just, mmm, just like that.” Jensen bit down on his shoulder, and he began to shake. Jared was so fascinated by his lover’s reactions that he almost failed to notice that he was on the edge himself until Jensen’s muscles tightened around his cock, and another orgasm was drawn from deep inside him. It built like the roll of distant thunder, coming closer and gaining power until it shook him as a house to his foundation.

He lay sated atop Jensen, who sucked like an obscene infant on the skin of Jared’s neck. Feeling the sting, Jared pulled away, and Jensen whined.

“Up off this hard floor and to bed,” Jared said. He rose and pulled Jensen to his feet before unceremoniously pushing him onto the bed. Using his belt, he tied Jensen’s hands together and lashed them to the headboard. “I’d prefer to not awake with my throat cut.”

“You don’t trust me, lover?” Jensen asked. “I was just playing before.”

“Hmm,” Jared lay down beside him and ran his hands over the young man’s muscular body. “Maybe I just like seeing you this way – at my mercy and all.” Jared sucked a nipple into his mouth.

“Ah, you’re just teasing now,” Jensen said. “Besides, I’ll let you do anything you like.”

Jared felt a thrill go through him at the words. “Would you indeed, darling? We’ll put that to the test when we get back to the ship, but for tonight, you stay tied. You look pretty this way, and I’ll sleep all the better knowing I won’t feel your dagger at my throat.”

“All right,” Jensen whispered. “But I won’t kill you. Really. Not as long as you keep our deal.”

“Our deal was that you give yourself to me – not the other way around.” Jared lowered the flame on the lamp and settled beside him.

“You misunderstood,” Jensen said. He wiggled onto his side facing Jared. “And it’s what you want.”

“So you say,” Jared said, but he felt the truth of it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he didn’t want anyone else – just this clever, merciless killer. He wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

“Jared.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re warm, and I’m cold.”

Surely Jensen couldn’t be cold in the steamy Caribbean night, but Jared rolled toward him and wrapped his arms around the young man. He smelled of a mixture of powder and rum and sex. Jared liked it.

“Jensen.” Jared hesitated to ask, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer, but better to know now than be surprised tomorrow. “How did you get out of my cabin?”

There was a pause before Jensen spoke. “Someone brought food.”

“Who? And why did he let you out?” Jared realized he was rubbing his cheek against Jensen’s hair and stopped.

“He didn’t say his name.” Jensen nuzzled farther into the crook of Jared’s neck. “He said … that I had a pretty mouth and it wasn’t fair that only the captain got to enjoy it. He … it doesn’t matter now. I’m tired.”

“Jensen, will there be a mess to clean up when we get back to the ship?” Jared felt Jensen shake his head. “You didn’t cut his throat, too?” Again, the head shake, but something wasn’t right. “Did he harm you?” he asked. He stroked Jensen’s hair.

Again the head shake. “I persuaded him to let me go,” Jensen whispered against his skin.

Jared reached up and unlashed Jensen’s wrists from the headboard and looped his lover’s bound arms around his neck. Jensen sighed and put his cheek against Jared’s chest. It might be an awkward position but he seemed content.

“Good for you,” Jared said. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  
“Captain!” Christian called out as Jared headed for his cabin. He trotted along behind Jared for a few feet before speaking again. “Captain, you should know, Angus is dead and your Molly gone.”

Jared turned and spoke quietly. “I know, Christian. He told me.” He started toward his cabin again.

“He, oh, well, I already removed the body, sir,” Christian said.

Jared stopped in the doorway and saw the small brown stain that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes, good,” Jared said. “What did you do with it? The body?” He opened Jensen’s case and removed trousers a shirt and undergarments, which he rolled into a ball.

“Wrapped and ready to go overboard when we hit open water tonight,” the first mate said.

“Good man,” Jared said and clapped him on the shoulder. “I have to go back ashore and ... collect something ... do some shopping.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Christian?”

“Are you ... is he ...”

Jared grinned. “Yes, Christian, I am, and he is.”

“Cap, if I can be so bold, that boy is trouble.”

Jared laughed. “You have no idea.”

 

 


	3. Black Jared and the Proper Molly

 

  
Jared had taken Jensen’s clothes to him at the hotel, and despite the young man’s attempts to lure him back into bed, he’d gotten dressed, and they'd set out to get him new footwear. They found a cobbler with a few ready-made shoes and boots.

“These look about your size,” Jared held up a fashionable pair of shoes with gold buckles.

Jensen crinkled his nose in response and continued looking at boots.

“Shoes aren’t as hot,” Jared said. He wore boots himself. He found them to be sturdier and better protection than shoes, but Jensen had said he liked pretty things.

Suddenly, Jensen moved toward the counter. He was looking up at the shelf behind the cobbler whose gaze followed Jensen’s. He grinned before lifting down a pair of black boots. The wide cuff at the top was embossed with vines and flowers. Narrow straps wrapped around the ankle and buckled at the side. He set them on the counter, and Jensen licked his lips. Jared knew that if they fit, he’d be buying them.

“Made those for Deadeye Pete, but he never came to pick ‘em up,” the cobbler said. “They hung him in St. Kitts two months back. Go ahead. Try ‘em. I’ll give you a good price if they fit.”

Jensen kicked off Jared’s old brown boots and pulled on the black boots. They came to mid-calf and fit like a glove. When Jensen looked up at Jared, it was with the grin of a kid who’d just been given a puppy.

“How much?” Jared asked the cobbler as Jensen tossed a pair of black kid gloves on the counter as well.

They visited a tailor who measured Jensen for shirts and trousers and a long jacket in indigo that would be ready upon their return to Port Royal. Jensen had to be satisfied with some silk scarves and stockings and couple pairs of cotton gloves on that visit.

As they stepped out, Jensen wrapped one of the silk scarves around his head and tied it at the side. It was deep green patterned with small gold fleur de lis. Jared couldn’t imagine that the boy needed anything else, when Jensen suddenly announced he must have a hat as they came upon a haberdashery. Jared knew quite well that hatters liked to take advantage of men of his profession, but the boy would look good in a hat, Jared thought, as he followed Jensen inside. The proprietor was typical – thin with pasty skin and the anxious face of a weasel.

Jared was about to try to draw Jensen back onto the street, but the young man had already placed a hat on his head and was gazing at himself in the looking glass. Jared knew he was done for.

The hat sat atop the silk scarf. It had a broad brim at the front that turned up and then narrowed and dipped down at the back. At first, Jared thought the hat was black, but up close it proved to be aubergine, and it was festooned with black, gray, and white feathers.

Jensen turned toward Jared and looked up from beneath the broad brim. Eye lashes fluttered.

Jared smiled and sighed. “How much?” he said to the haberdasher.

“You should get a new hat too,” Jensen said.

“My hat is fine,” Jared said. He’d bought the tricorn with coins he’d gotten from his first raid after becoming captain. “It brings me luck.”

Jensen scoffed, “It’s just a hat. I bring you luck.” He picked up a dark brown tricorn with gold braid around the edge. “Here, try this on.” He snatched Jared’s hat off his head.

Jared huffed but put it on. “You know the less I spend on me, the more I can spend on you.”

Jensen laughed. “You can’t spend it all on me.” He stepped back to look at Jared. “There now, that’s quite handsome. You must have it.” He turned to the hatter. “Both of these.”

“Jensen ...”

“Honestly, you can’t go back to the ship in that old thing and me in this,” he said with a tip of his head.

There was some truth in that, Jared thought. What would the crew think of him spending so much money on his new bed warmer and nothing on himself? He sighed and pulled out his purse. Jensen grinned and headed for the door. Jared wore his new hat out, but he reached back and grabbed his old one off the counter before leaving.

“Are you having fun?” he asked when they reached the street.

“Enormous fun,” Jensen grinned. “It’s been so long since anyone’s bought me beautiful things.”

Jared stopped in his tracks. The heat of jealousy rushed through him. Jensen had implied that he was untouched, and that had seemed true. So what did he mean by that? Jared hadn’t had much time to think about Jensen’s past, but he’d made assumptions. Maybe he’d been wrong.

“What? Who?” he demanded.

Jensen turned to him with a bewildered expression, and then his eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him. He took Jared’s wrist and drew him into a shadowed doorway.

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Jensen said. “I’ve never, I mean there’s never been anyone like you.”

“Why should I believe you? You’re playing me for a fool,” Jared said. He felt a heat that went beyond the tropical sun and a twist in his gut that made him want to ball up his fist and hit something.

Jensen looked hurt by the accusation. He shook his head and laid his hand on Jared’s chest. “I’m not. I swear. I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.” His eyes glistened, and Jared felt all the rage drain away. He wanted to kiss the smile back onto Jensen’s face but not here on the street. It was time to get the boy back to the ship, back to his cabin, back to his bed where he belonged. Jared forced a smile.

“All right,” he said. “Come along. We’ll go through the market, shall we?”

Jensen returned the smile and sniffed. “Can we get some wine?”

Jared laughed. “Yes, of course, and cheese and fruit. Whatever you like.”

They ended up with all that and fresh oysters too. 

  
Jared sent Jensen to his cabin and supervised casting off. As soon as they were on the open sea, they’d have a brief word over the body of Angus. Then he’d be sent unceremoniously over the rail. Good riddance, Jared thought. The thought of him daring to try to take what was Jared’s, thinking of Jensen that way, touching him, still made Jared’s blood boil.

“Captain.” The first mate’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

“Yes, Christian?”

“Can I have a word, sir?” The first mate motioned him back toward the cabins at the prow of the ship.

“Of course.” He followed Christian, who ducked into his own small cabin.

Christian rubbed a hand over his chin. “What do you know of the tutor, Jared?” Here in the privacy of his cabin, Christian felt comfortable dropping the ‘sir’ or ‘captain’ because they’d been friends first after all. They’d jumped ship together five years ago. He was making it clear that he was speaking to Jared as such, and Jared tried to put defensiveness aside.

“Not much,” he admitted.

Christian nodded. “I got talking to a man last night, used to be a valet for some lord or other. He’d heard about our raid on _The Dover_. He asked about the tutor; knew him by name. He said the kid’s mother was infamous, and he had been her groom when he was younger.”

“Infamous?”

Christian uncorked a bottle of rum and took a swig before handing it to Jared. “Aye, he said she was the daughter of a lord, married young to an older titled someone …”

“He didn’t know the names?”

“Oh yeah, he knew all the names but, you know, they’re all the same,” Christian grinned. “Anyway, the husband was a gambler and drinker, died and left her with nothing but a townhouse, a worthless title, a small son … and her beauty. Did I mention that she had eyes like emeralds and hair of gold?”

“So …” Jared took a drink of rum.

“So, she did what any clever woman in her position would do,” Christian said.

“She remarried.”

“She took lovers … lots of them … rich ones who liked to give her gifts and put her son through school … when he got older, of course. Before that …” Christian shrugged. “Imagine.”

“Aye,” Jared said. “Just imagine.” Jared’s father and mother had been shopkeepers, but he’d seen children whose mothers were prostitutes. He saw the shame in their eyes, the resignation that they would always be the sons and daughters of harlots. He couldn’t imagine that it would be so different if they’d lived in fine houses with plenty to eat and elegant clothes to wear. Perhaps that was all he was to Jensen – a procurer of pretty things. Jensen had talked ill of the girl he’d killed. He’d called her whore, but maybe he wasn’t so different. No, Jared thought, it wasn’t like that.

“So, Christian, if his father was titled ...”

“Is he? I can’t say. The man I was talking to went off with a woman before finishing the story,” Christian said.

Jared just nodded. Of course, he’d heard stories of how members of the gentry could fall so low. Gambling was as much a weakness of the upper-classes as it was those of his own profession. Most women in the position of Jensen’s mother would have looked for a man to marry, and maybe she had. It was all too common for wealthy men to string a woman like that along, give her gifts, take advantage of the situation, and ruin her.

“Listen, Jared, I wasn’t just being an arse when I told you to be careful.” Christian took the bottle back and drank. “There’s more to that kid than we know. He killed Angus and snuck off the ship like a right punk.”

Jared thought of telling Christian about the whore Jensen killed but held his tongue. “I know, I know. He isn’t what he first appeared to be, but ...” Jared ran a hand over his face. “He’s ... I’ve never met anyone like him, Christian.” He gave his friend a rueful smile.

“Oh bloody hell, that’s what I was afraid of,” Christian said. “He’s gotten under your skin.”

“I’m not stupid, Christian.”

“I know you are not stupid, but you are reckless, by God. You can’t deny that.”

“I don’t,” Jared admitted. “Life is a gamble. I reckon he’s worth the gamble.”

Christian shook his head and looked resigned. 

  
Jared returned to his cabin to find Jensen seated at the table in loose fitting trousers and a white shirt. Before him were Jared’s ledger and a cup of wine.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jared asked. Jensen peered up at him through a pair of wire-framed spectacles, and Jared felt the heat of anger dissipate.

“You keep your books very tidy,” Jensen said, looking both studious and provocative.

Jared pulled the ledger away from Jensen and closed it. “My father owned a store. He taught me to keep books.” He poured himself a cup of wine and sat down across from Jensen. “What about yours?”

“My what?” Jensen took the spectacles off and laid them aside.

“Your father. What did he teach you?” Jared leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee.

“I didn’t know my father,” Jensen said. His eyes never left Jared’s face. “But you know that, don’t you?”

Jared felt his face flush, and he nodded.

“My father taught me that it is foolish to rely on other people to take care of you,” Jensen said. “You only have yourself.”

“You don’t trust me,” Jared said. “You say you aren’t just using me, but you are.”

Jensen rose, walked around the table, and straddled Jared’s lap. “No, that is not it,” Jensen said. He laced his fingers behind Jared’s neck and brushed his lips over Jared’s. “I want to trust you. That’s why I killed the whore. I wanted you to understand how important this is to me. You aren’t just a pocketbook.”

He kissed Jared again with a slow, soft slide of lips and barely a flick of his tongue. He pressed their foreheads together.

“I like you,” Jensen whispered. “I want to be with you.”

“Tell me the truth,” Jared said. “Tell me how you ended up as the Alsby’s tutor.”

Jensen sighed and rose from Jared’s lap. “Alsby was my uncle.” Jensen leaned back against the table, and his fingers toyed with the lace at his throat. “My father’s eldest brother. When she died he took control of her assets. He pulled me out of school and set me to teaching his children.” He’d worked the collar of his shirt open and began unbuttoning it. “I get nothing of the estate until I’m twenty-five, and he made it clear that there wouldn’t be anything left to inherit. He liked reminding me that I was dependent on him – that I always would be.”

Jared’s gaze fell to the necklace around Jensen’s neck. “The emerald; it was your mother’s.”

Jensen nodded. “He had no right to give it to anyone else. It wasn’t his to give.”

“You loved her,” Jared said.

The look on Jensen’s face was immediately fierce and ugly. “Of course I did,” he said. He pulled the shirt off as he paced across the room and dropped it to the floor. His trousers followed. He pulled on a garnet-colored dressing gown from the trunk and continued pacing. “She gave up any hope of love or an honest marriage to give me the kind of life I was born to – not my father, not my uncle – just her. She did it to protect me. Do you know how men treat step-sons? Do you know how their children treat step-brothers? I do. I saw it at school – boys who were forgotten there, never went home for a holiday while their half-siblings were given everything. It wasn’t like that for me. My mother loved me.” His breath hitched in his throat, and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. His eyes were wide, staring.

Jared was on his feet in a moment, pulling Jensen close and kissing his temple. He cupped the back of Jensen’s head with his hand. “Shh, Jen, it’s all right. I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.” Jensen shuddered and then relaxed into the embrace. “I’m sure you’re right. She loved you.”

Jensen broke away from him and paced across the room. He ran his hands up into his hair and pulled at it. “He plucked the posies. I should have crushed him, not you. It should have been me.”

“What, Jen?”

“The posies – once you bruise them, they’re ruined,” Jensen said. His eyes were unfocused, and he spoke as though to a child, to someone who wasn’t there.

It took Jared just a moment to realize Jensen was talking about Alsby and his daughters, and he reached out to the boy. “No, you can’t blame yourself.”

“They were tall and straight and golden like sunflowers until he ... First one …” He made a motion with his hand as though he was deadheading roses. “And then another …”

His other hand remained twisted in his hair, and Jared pried his fingers open and held the hand between both of his own. His stomach was tight, burning with acid.

“Jen, Jensen,” he said as though calming a frightened animal or luring him back from a ledge. “Hey, he’s gone, dead, he can’t hurt them anymore.”

Jensen looked up at him in confusion. “The flowers only grow in the moonlight,” he said.

He pulled the boy into his arms and rocked him. “Of course, they do, Jen. Of course, they do.” He pointed to the window. “And look at that moon. Hmm? They’ll grow lovely in this moonlight.”

Jensen looked out at the shimmer of moonlight on the waves and seemed to melt against Jared, all pliant and warm and responsive. He turned his head and nosed into the open neck of Jared’s shirt and licked a path from his collar bone to his ear. “To your bed, you should take me,” he said. His breath was hot against Jared’s neck, and his fingers bit into Jared’s flesh. Forgetting the boy’s strange words of flowers and moonlight, he laid him on the bed.

He opened the robe to reveal the boy’s pale freckled skin in the golden light of the lantern. There were red marks along his neck and shoulders from Jared’s enthusiastic mouth the night before at the hotel, and finger shaped bruises on his hips and ribs. A sense of remorse for marking up all that beautiful skin competed with deep possessive satisfaction. He kissed the love bites one at a time while running his hands over Jensen’s sides and up along his ribs. When his thumb rubbed over a nipple, Jensen sighed and arched against his hand. Jared continued kissing his way along the bites on the boy’s shoulder, but his thumb returned, rubbing gentle circles over the nipple until it pebbled and peaked.

Jensen moaned, and Jared’s cock was hard and thick in his trousers. His lips found the other nipple and worried it until it too was a hard little nub. Jensen’s fingers tangled in Jared’s hair, pulling gently at the roots. The urgency and need in the movement, the almost edge of pain was strangely arousing. Jared’s mouth moved to the bruises on the young man’s hips, but he was too excited now to settle for kisses. He sucked at the bruises, pulling more blood to the surface, leaving dark red blossoms in his wake.

Jensen was moaning and squirming on the bed. Jared looked up the plane of the boy’s body into dark, ravenous eyes. His face was flushed, lips parted on panting breaths, and Jared wanted to own him body and soul. He wanted to make him fall apart only to put him back together. He wanted every inch of the boy – here, right here – and his eyes fell to Jensen’s cock where it lay arched and flushed, leaking over his belly. He should have this too. He’d never sucked another man’s cock, but how could he know Jensen, claim him, if he didn’t have this too?

Jared wrapped his large hand around the base and stroked up over it to the head. Gathering precome onto his hand, he smoothed it back down the shaft. Jensen groaned, which was encouraging. Jared flicked out his tongue and licked up a little fluid from the tip, and Jensen twitched at the sensation. Jared smiled at the reaction and the mild, salty taste. He continued to stroke the base as he sucked the head between his lips. Jensen’s hips jerked instinctively, and Jared put his forearm across them to hold him still. He wasn’t a pro after all. But he took as much in his mouth as he could and thought of the way Jensen had looked with Jared’s cock in his mouth – his lips stretched and puffy around the shaft, cheeks hollowed, obscenely beautiful – and he wondered how he looked to Jensen. He looked up at the kid who was biting his lip. There was something fierce and heartbreakingly vulnerable in Jensen’s gaze.

Then his eyes rolled and his head dropped back, and Jared’s mouth was filled with hot slick. He pulled away even as more shot out, covering his hand and Jensen’s groin. It was thick and bitter, but not without uses. Jared spit it into his hand as he fumbled with his fly. Pulling out his cock, he slicked it with the spit and come in his hand. He was achingly hard and awkward in his rush, as he pushed Jensen’s legs apart and up, thrusting deep into the kid’s body without preamble. Jensen cried out at the abrupt penetration, but Jared didn’t pause. Jensen’s face twisted in pain for a moment before he moaned again, and his hips lifted to meet Jared’s thrusts. Looking down, Jared saw come shoot from the kid’s cock, and then again, as he writhed and moaned beneath him. His fingernails were scraping welts into Jared’s arms.

Jared came hard and sudden with something so close to pain he cried out. He pressed himself tight into Jensen as his balls pumped seed deep into him. Jensen grabbed Jared’s thighs and stilled him deep inside. Jared leaned forward onto his elbows and caught Jensen’s mouth in a surprisingly tender kiss. The boy’s lips parted like surrender, and his hands moved up, feathering across Jared’s back before coming to rest around his shoulders.

He hummed sleepily as they broke the kiss and wiggled his ass. “Filling me up, my captain?”

Jared chuckled. “Yes, my lord, to remind you to whom this pretty ass belongs.”

Jensen pushed Jared back enough to look up at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t need reminders, but I like it anyway,” he said.

“Do you indeed?” Jared let his softening cock slide from Jensen’s hole and rolled them onto their sides.

“Mmm,” Jensen murmured. His eyelids were drooping, his cheeks still flushed, and his hair a tangled mess. The boy looked wrecked, and his limbs clung heavily to Jared who felt a warm buzz of satisfaction running through him. His kissed Jensen’s temple and settled the boy’s body against his chest. Jensen nuzzled against Jared’s neck.

“Yours,” he breathed. “Even if we didn’t have a deal.”

 


	4. Black Jared and the Proper Molly

  


  
Jensen knew he was alone. In the weeks they’d been at sea, he always seemed to wake up alone in Jared’s bed. He didn’t like it, but at least here he was surrounded by Jared’s aroma, the scent of them, their passion. He buried his face in the linens and inhaled the musky smell of come and sweat. Despite his fastidiousness in other areas, he’d never been averse these odors.

He remembered sitting with his boney little knees pulled up under his nightshirt just inside his bedchamber door. He’d hold it ajar waiting for the man, whichever man it was, to leave. Then he’d sneak into his mother’s room and crawl under the covers and snuggle against her warm, bare skin. She’d awaken enough to pull him close and tuck his head under her chin before drifting back into sleep. Sometimes, he would sleep too. Often, he’d lie there safe and warm surrounded by the smells of heated passion overlaid with her spicy perfume.

He rolled over and stared up at the wood-beamed ceiling of the cabin. He hadn’t known then that the smell was of rutting, the loveless joining of two bodies, a transaction ... no. It didn’t matter now that he knew. It was different, but still a comforting smell that reminded him of Jared who was strong and smart and fearless. Jensen rolled back to his side, almost onto his stomach, with one knee bent. His cock rubbed against the silk robe that was still beneath him. It was stiff with their spent. His hand slid under his body and grasped his hardening member. His eyes fell shut as the image came to mind of Jared swallowing him down the night before.

He hadn’t thought that Jared would do that for him. Men were users; everything he’d experienced in his life taught him that. He’d always been confused by his desire for them. He didn’t understand why he’d want these selfish, heartless pigs. From the seemingly endless procession of men who’d passed through his mother’s house to the taunting, bullying boys at school, to his heartless uncle, there hadn’t been a handful who weren’t bastards.

And at first glance, Jared hadn’t seemed any different as he leapt onto the deck of _The Dover_. He was all swagger and cruel words, but that smile and those broad shoulders  lit a fire in Jensen’s belly. He spit into his hand and stroked his cock. He stretched and shoved his face into the pillow. He had wanted Jared, and when the pirate threatened Alsby, a thrill went through him. He knew he would have the pirate, had to have him. His mind had begun to work on how he could get him, eliminate Alsby, and protect the girls, and he’d hit on the gold. He knew it was wrong, knew it was dangerous, but he’d have what he wanted.

When Jensen spoke and the pirate turned his attention on him, those tilted hazel eyes meeting his, Jensen felt the heat in that gaze. He felt the satisfaction of knowing that deal or not, Jared planned to take him anyway. It was all there in his eyes. Jensen groaned and moved his hand faster, twisting up over the head with each stroke. That night when Jared threw him over the table and fucked him, it had hurt. He’d had no idea how painful it would be. He had always avoided letting any of the bastards have _that_ no matter how much they, or he, wanted it. But he held the bloody cravat in his hand. Jared had killed for him, and he knew – even if Jared didn’t – that the pirate would be his.

Jensen had killed for him in return. The deal was sealed in blood. Jared’s hot, wet mouth swallowing him down the night before confirmed it. His balls drew up tight with the image in his mind – that huge hand on his cock, pink lips stretched around it, eyes watching him. Jensen groaned into the pillow as his seed spilled onto the silk robe. He continued to fuck his dick into his fist as waves of pleasure went through him.

As the orgasm passed he lay sleepy and slack-limbed, his cock resting in his loose fist. He rubbed his cheek against the pillow and sighed. He wished Jared was there. He’d like the solid weight of his lover’s chest against his back and those strong arms around him. Jared kept him grounded when he felt he was drifting away ... like last night when he’d seen the sunflowers, Polly and Nancy, when he heard the voices rasping in his mind and felt phantom fingers plucking at his hair and ... no ...

He got up, tossing the soiled robe to the floor, and quickly scooped a pitcher of water from the barrel chained securely in the corner against the roll of the waves. Before he washed, he crouched over the chamber pot and let Jared’s seed drip from him. A day hadn’t gone by that Jared hadn’t filled him with it and reminded him in action and word that he belonged to him. The man’s fierce possessiveness made his skin feel tight and hot and his body needy.

He’d always been defensive of his personal space and his body, but he couldn’t imagine ever pushing Jared away. He couldn’t deny him whatever he desired even when it hurt. Jared fucked him every day; sometimes three or even four times. Not much preparation was required as the weeks had gone by. He was usually slick with Jared’s come and his body had learned to associate the penetration with pleasure. His muscles no longer tightened up at the first intrusion. Still, use any muscle, rub any flesh enough, and it will get sore.

He rose and began to wash. As his fingers slid between his buttocks, he probed his hole. It felt puffy and a little loose. He pushed the ends of two fingers inside, and his eyes slammed shut at the memory of Jared’s thick cock inside him.

“Bloody hell,” Jared said behind him. The door banged closed. Jared’s huge hands grabbed his hips and pulled him back against the man’s chest. “You are insatiable, aren’t you?”

He turned Jensen around and bent him over the table as he had the first night. Jensen’s cheek was pressed to the table by the hand on the back of his neck. Within moments, the blunt head of Jared’s dick was pushing into him. Jensen sucked in a lungful of air as Jared’s cock filled him.

“You’re so slick, Jen. Still filled with my seed, are you not? You like it?”

“Yes,” Jensen gasped.

“Mmm, I can tell,” Jared said as he began to pound into him. It was fast and rough. Jared was done quickly, spilling into him again, claiming him. Having just jerked off, Jensen didn’t even get hard. He didn’t care. Having the affect he did on Jared was enough sometimes. Knowing that Jared couldn’t resist him was reassuring. Even as Jared let his cock pull free, Jensen felt semen gush from his hole, over his balls and down his thigh.

He turned to Jared with a smirk. “Now I have to wash all over again.”

Jared tucked his cock back in and did up his fly. “You do that, pretty,” he said. He kissed Jensen on the forehead and slapped his ass in passing. “Put some clothes on and join us on deck. We’re in pursuit of a galleon.” He opened the door and paused. “And by clothes, I mean trousers, Jen.”

Jensen just smiled and nodded. He washed up again, and put on dark trousers and a loose-fitting white shirt. He pulled on his new boots and admired them for a moment. He remembered the indulgent smile on Jared’s face as he paid for them, and it almost looked like love.

Jensen checked his reflection in the small looking glass bolted to the wall over the basin. There was a light gingery stubble on his cheeks, but he wasn’t about to shave with a straight razor while _The Huntress_ bounded after a Spanish galleon. Instead, he went to Mrs. Alsby’s trunk and dug around until he found a small pot of rouge. He went back to the mirror and dabbed some of the color onto his lips. He blotted most of it off on a cloth the way he’d seen his mother do too many times to count.

He tipped his head and smiled at his reflection. He wondered if Jared would approve. His smile broadened as he grabbed his hat and left the cabin.

  
Jensen stood at the rail next to Jared and Chris as they came up alongside the galleon. The smell of gun powder still hung heavy in the air from the canon fire. There were two gaping holes in the side of the other ship, one just above the waterline. Jensen ignored Jared’s command to stay on _The Huntress_ and followed him to the deck of the Spanish ship.

Jared half turned toward him, and Jensen saw the movement from the corner of his eye – a body moving toward Jared from behind. Jared’s eyes went wide as Jensen grabbed his sword hand in both of his and twisted the cutlass up between them. The point went into the assailant’s chest just below his breastbone. He let go of Jared’s wrist and stepped back with a smirk.

Jared pulled the cutlass free of the man’s chest as he fell to his knees. He gasped once and fell on his face between them. Jared looked at Jensen appraisingly.

“I took fencing at school, love,” Jensen said with a smile. “Give me a blade. I can protect myself.”

“The fighting appears to be over ... love,” Jared said and swung the cutlass in an arc to illustrate the Spanish crew on their knees toward the stern. “Fortunately, you caught the straggler.” Jared stepped over the dead man, and the toes of his boots were nearly touching Jensen’s. “Of course, if you hadn’t distracted me. I would have gotten him myself.”

“As I said, I can protect myself. There’s no need for me to be a distraction to you,” Jensen said in a low voice so those around them couldn’t hear.

Jared’s gaze was on Jensen’s too-red lips. He licked his own. “You are a distraction, one way or another.” He pulled a dagger from his belt and handed it to Jensen who felt a flush of happiness at the weight of the blade in his hand. Jared walked off to supervise his crew, and Jensen looked at the body at his feet.

He hooked the toe of his boot under the man’s shoulder and flipped him onto his back. He was young, no older than Jensen himself, with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His dead eyes stared up at the mid-morning sky. With his finely arched brows and thick lashes, he reminded Jensen of someone. Jensen touched the tip of the dagger to the edge of the widow’s peak that graced the forehead; he let the weight of the blade slice through the skin as he dragged it down and over the nose. The skin split, blood barely welling up without a heartbeat to pump it. The blade continued over the tip of the nose, splitting the upper lip and then bottom, the chin and throat.

All that was beneath was muscle and bone. He knew that. You couldn’t see what was really behind the mask. It was only revealed in the eyes. The tip of the dagger moved upward and hovered over the blank eyes. Fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“What are you doing, Jen?” Jared’s voice was low and soothing. Jensen looked up into concerned eyes.

“The truth is in the eyes,” he said.

Jared glanced down at the dead man and then back at Jensen. “Not when they’re dead, love. There’s no truth there; only secrets.”

Jared was right, he realized. The dead held only secrets. They couldn’t lie anymore, but the truth fled with their souls. Jensen clenched his jaw in irritation. He couldn’t know why this man of all the crew chose to attack Jared. He hated not knowing. He understood the sheep who knelt a few feet away praying to their God that Jared would spare their lives, but this one, he didn’t understand. It made no sense. It was suicide to attack.

“Put your blade away, pretty,” Jared said. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Jensen wiped the bit of blood from the dagger onto the corpse’s clothing. Jared still held his wrist, and he pulled Jensen to his feet and led him to the forecastle. They ducked into the captain’s cabin, and Jared gestured to the bed. Curled in the center was an unusually large feline.

Jensen shrugged. “It’s a cat.”

Jared smiled and shook his head. “Not just any cat, Jen. It’s a Siamese.” He picked the animal up, and despite its struggles, tucked it under his arm. He turned its face toward Jensen. It had eyes like blue topaz, set in a narrow face. Jensen held out his hands to take it, and Jared’s smile widened. “I thought you might like it.”

Unlike the squirming it had done in Jared’s arms, it looked up at Jensen in a disturbingly human way and then banged the top of its head into his chin. Jared’s big, warm hand slipped around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “Just as I thought,” Jared said and then kissed him. Jensen felt his irritation and apprehension disappear. Jared was smiling as he broke the kiss. His eyes were tender and warm.

“Sir,” a voice said from the doorway, and Jared pressed his lips together and looked up over Jensen’s shoulder.

“Yes, Christian, I’ll be right there,” Jared said. “Why don’t you take him back to _The Huntress_ and settle him in? I’ll be along when we’ve gotten things squared away here.”

Jensen could feel the deep rumble of the feline’s purr in the palm of his hand on its chest. It nuzzled against his neck. He nodded and turned toward the door.

  
Jared watched Christian step aside for Jensen to pass through the doorway. Neither man spoke until Christian shoved the door shut.

“Something on your mind, Christian?”

“I said it before, he’s dangerous.”

“He was protecting me,” Jared said.

“If you hadn’t been distracted by his red lips, you would have dispatched the attacker yourself,” Christian said. “That’s two men dead at his hand.”

Jared sucked his lips between his teeth and nodded.

“What?” Christian demanded. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He killed the whore I was with the night he followed me into Port Royal,” Jared admitted with a smirk.

“What? You think that’s funny?” Christian demanded.

Jared shrugged. “It’s kind of sweet, isn’t it?”

“Sweet?” Christian huffed. “For the sake of all that’s holy, no, I don’t think it’s sweet. The boy is not right in the head. Did you see what he did to that body out there?” His finger jabbed in the direction of the door for emphasis.

“Fine things need care, Christian.”

The first mate’s eyebrows shot up. “Care?”

“He’s not like us. He’s not a workhorse to be driven through the streets pulling a cart all day and put away with nothing but a bag of oats and a bucket of water at night. He’s a Cleveland Bay. He’s _bon sang_.”

Christian took a step forward and glowered at Jared. “More like a rabid dog.”

“No,” Jared bristled. “My watchdog to others and a lap dog to me.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” Christian said. “That dog will turn on you.”

“Enough!” Jared said. “He’s mine, and I’ll see to him.” He strode past his first mate to the door.

“My God, but his mouth must make the angels sing,” Christian said behind him.

Jared’s fingers slipped from the door knob and curled into a fist. The look on his face as he turned made his friend take a step back. Then Jared smiled. “You have no idea, Christian, but I’m pretty sure that heaven has nothing to do with it.”

Jared swung the door open with more force than necessary, and it banged against the wall. As he strode across the deck, Caro fell in beside him.

“What is it?” Jared asked.

“It’s about the boy, Captain,” Caro said. “I think he could be dangerous.”

Jared came to a halt and glowered over the crewman. “What, you too? You think I should get rid of him?”

“No, Captain,” Caro said. “But I see something in him, a power that my people respect …”

“We’re ready to cast off, Captain!” Carver yelled.

Jared started moving again, but Caro’s hand on his arm made him pause. “Just be wary, sir,” the crewman said. “He may not know his own limits.”

Jared frowned over the crewman’s cryptic statement but didn’t have time to pursue the topic.

  
The Spanish galleon held casks of wine and far too much treasure to move to _The Huntress_ , so what was left of the crew was set adrift in lifeboats and the galleon itself was manned by members of Jared’s crew. It fell in behind _The Huntress_ for the trip to Tortuga where the booty could be split and the ship sold to another entrepreneur.

Jared grabbed two bottles of wine and went to his cabin, where he opened the wine and sat down at the table. He propped his feet up and drank from the bottle, the red liquid  rich and heavy on his tongue.

Jensen lay on the bed in trousers and the white shirt. He was curled around the cat that looked up at him with a supplicant’s devotion as his hand ran repeatedly over its back. His hair was still pulled back in a queue; he was unshaven and had wiped the rouge from his mouth. He’d never looked more like a boy, but it didn’t detract in the least from his allure. If anything the contrast of masculinity with his pretty features made him more desirable.

Jared wanted to push the cat from the bed and strip the young man of his clothes, but his mind wouldn’t let go of the image of Jensen dissecting the Spaniard. He suppressed the urge to ask him about it, and it took him a moment to realize that Jensen had spoken.

“What now?” the boy had asked.

“We’re headed to Tortuga,” Jared said. “We’ll sell off some of the loot, and the men can spend some time with the wenches.”

“And then?” Jensen looked up with mild curiosity.

“Back to Jamaica,” Jared answered. He dropped his boots to the floor with a thud. “Some things can only be sold there. Your new clothes should be ready.” Jared stood and the cat leapt to the shelf beside the window. Jensen lay back on the bed with a welcoming smile. Jared offered him the wine bottle, and Jensen took it, turned it up with the mouth to his lips. Jared watched the boy’s throat work, and his cock filled as though with the wine.

Jared went to his knees on the bed and crawled up over Jensen who lowered the bottle, and Jared kissed him, licked the taste of wine from his mouth. Jensen’s fingers curled in the hair at the back of Jared’s neck and tugged. Jared pushed his hand under Jensen’s shirt and rolled a nipple between his fingers. Jensen arched off the bed and hummed. Jared scraped his teeth along the ginger stubble of Jensen’s jawline.

“Take your clothes off, beautiful,” Jared murmured as he moved back and pulled Jensen’s shirt up over his head. He tossed it onto the floor as Jensen wriggled out of his trousers. He spread his legs around Jared’s kneeling form and lay back. His cock stood up thick and flushed from a sparse thatch of curled, soft hair the color of his beard. Jared rubbed his fingers through it and grasped the base of Jensen’s cock.

“Pretty everywhere, aren’t you then?” Jared said.

Jensen grabbed Jared’s wrist and tried to get him to move his hand. “Don’t tease.”

“Feeling needy, darling?”

Jensen rolled his hips as Jared stroked up the shaft. A copious amount of precome drooled into his palm when he reached the crown.

“So responsive,” he said. “Like a fast sloop.”

“Aha, then sail me, Captain.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Jared said as he opened his fly and smeared Jensen’s precome over the head of his own cock.

“Don’t mock me,” Jensen said with narrowed eyes.

“I would never,” Jared swore. He pressed the head of his leaking dick to Jensen’s hole and pushed forward. There was little resistance, and the boy lifted his hips with a sigh. His legs fell farther apart and his fingers dug into Jared’s thighs. How in God’s name could Christian expect him to give this up? And Caro … Jared pushed the thought aside. Later.

Jensen’s lashes fluttered as Jared sank into him. Jared thought of the night he took the boy’s virginity – of his whimpers, and white-knuckled grip on the table – but was quickly brought back to the now by the boy's moans, as he bit his lip and arched like a cat as Jared began to ride him. Jensen’s eyes fell shut and his hands lay curled beside his head. Jared stopped, buried to the hilt in Jensen’s silky, hot channel.

“How indolent you are,” Jared said.

Jensen’s eyes snapped open, green fire in their depths. Grabbing the front of Jared’s shirt and yanking him down, he crushed their mouths together. He sucked on Jared’s lip as Jared began to pound into him. It punched a grunt from Jensen’s throat, and Jared could taste his own blood as Jensen’s teeth bit down. Jensen’s legs wrapped tight around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him on. Jensen’s cock was hard and fevered in Jared’s hand. He tugged at it once, twice, and Jensen tensed and cried out, his channel tightening around Jared’s dick and hot cream splattering between them, over Jared’s hand. He smeared it over Jensen’s belly as he felt his own balls pull up, spilling his seed deep inside him. Jensen lay shaking and panting.

Jared couldn’t contain the groan that slipped from his throat as his cock twitched and pulsed more come into the boy. Jensen’s fingers loosened in Jared’s hair, and his legs lost their tight grip but didn’t slide from around him. He looked sleepy and content. Jared pressed their lips together in a chaste, tender kiss.

“Fiery little beast,” he whispered when he started to pull away, and Jensen grasped his arms.

“Wait,” he said. “Stay, can’t you?”

“I have a ship to command,” Jared said.

Jensen nodded, but his disappointment was evident. He let his legs fall to the mattress, and turned his face away. Jared rolled them to their sides and pulled the boy close.

“For a moment,” he whispered.

Jensen pushed in close, and Jared settled on his back with the boy’s face pressed to the curve of his neck. Intense blue eyes peered down at him from the shelf above.

“We had an audience,” Jared groused.

Jensen looked up and smiled. “Our guardian angel.”

  
Jared sat at the table with his ledger before him, a cup of wine at his right and the lamp at his left. He listed the goods they had taken from the galleon in anticipation of dividing them and paying for some minor repairs to _The Huntress_ , but he was distracted. Jensen sat across the table in the chocolate dressing robe, his hair about his shoulders, pince-nez perched on his nose. A book was open on his pulled-up knees, and he chewed his lip.

Jared put his pen down and propped his chin on his hand. “What are you reading, darling?”

Wide eyes met his over the top of the lenses. “ _The Tempest_.”

Jared gave him a quizzical look.

“Shakespeare,” Jensen said. He closed the book and laid it on the table. He removed the pince-nez and rubbed his nose. “It’s the story of a shipwreck in a storm.”

“Shouldn’t tempt fate, love,” Jared said. “Better to read about carriage accidents.”

Jensen smiled and leaned forward. The emerald pendant caught the lamplight and glinted against milky skin.

“What are you doing?” Jensen asked.

“Inventorying our booty from the galleon,” Jared replied.

“Am I in there somewhere?”

“You weren’t booty,” Jared said. “We made a deal.”

“Indeed,” Jensen said. “And a mutually advantageous deal that was.” He picked up Jared’s cup and drank from it.

Jared nodded and studied the beautiful boy across the table a moment. “Tell me about the gold, Jen.”

Jensen’s gaze slipped away, and he toyed with the pince-nez where they lay on the book.

“What was it for?” Jared asked.

“It was to buy slaves,” Jensen said.

“For whom?”

“Alsby.”

Jared raised his head and let his hand drop to the table. “Alsby? Why would the governor of Jamaica need so many slaves?”

A muscle twitched in Jensen’s jaw. “They weren’t for Jamaica,” he said. He met Jared’s eye for a moment. “He had an island, a plantation, that he wanted to expand with slave labor.”

“An island? What island? Where?”

“St. Nicks, off Jamaica,” Jensen said.

“I know of it,” Jared said. “East toward Tortuga in the Orphan Cayes.”

Jensen nodded. “But it isn’t one.”

“No,” Jared agreed. Unlike the surrounding the low, coral cayes, St. Nicks was rose a hundred feet above high tide. “Alsby owned it? So who does now?”

Jensen shrugged. “I don’t know Alsby’s will.” There was an edge of steel to Jensen’s voice. “I wouldn’t even presume that he made proper provisions for Lady Alsby and the children.” He rose from the table and got a cup, which he filled with wine. He raised it to his mouth and took a long drink. He turned away and went to the window where the last light of the sunset turned the sea a dusky blue. When he faced Jared again, he didn’t look up. He slumped against the wall, raised the cup to his lips, and drained it.

“I hope he rots in hell,” he said with such bitterness that it brought Jared out of his chair, but as he approached, Jensen moved away. The tin cup dropped from his hand and hit the wooden floor with a metallic clunk. His fingers spread like a starfish, hand hovering, before grasping, yanking at his hair.

“Jen!” He reached out for the boy’s shoulders but hesitated to grab him from behind.

“The rose was blood red,” Jensen said. He turned, wide-eyed and staring, but Jared was sure he didn’t see him. “It was pure, white as snow ... he, he bloodied it.”

“Shh, Jen ...” Jared reached slowly toward him, but Jensen flinched away. “The flowers are safe now, Jen. Remember?”

Jensen slowly shook his head. His eyes were still unfocused. Jared went to the trunk that Jensen used and dug around until he found the blood-stained cravat that he’d taken from Alsby. He held it out to Jensen.

“Do you remember, love? He’s gone, dead, rotting in hell for hurting the flowers. I killed him for you.”

Jensen’s eyes rose first. They were dark, intent on Jared. Suddenly, his head came up, and he surged forward. Jared stumbled back against the table, and his arms were filled with the boy. Jensen’s fingers pressed bruises into Jared’s ribs, and his mouth was hot, wet, demanding on Jared’s skin. Jared’s arms went around him, but he just tried to hang on as Jensen rubbed against him as though trying to crawl inside Jared’s skin with him.

“Shh, calm, love,” Jared murmured. “It’s all right now.” He leaned back and pushed Jensen’s hair from his face. His freckled cheeks were wet and thick lashes clumped with tears. “I’m going to take care of you.”

He looked Jared in the eye and nodded. “I know.”

 

 


	5. Black Jared and the Proper Molly

  
  
The tavern was packed with sailors and whores and gamblers. The general din was punctuated by laughter, shouts, and the sounds of voices raised in bawdy tune. Jared leaned back in his chair with his ankle crossed over his knee and nursed a bottle of rum. Christian was at his left and Jensen at his right. Greasy, Carver, Caro, and Anson completed their group. Only Jared didn’t hold a five-card loo hand.

After two hands, Jensen laid his cards facedown on the table and drew his dagger. “I saw that,” he said to Carver, who was dealing to his right.

Jared had no doubt that Jensen had seen Carver palm a card as he dealt. He shot Christian a look and leaned forward. “Jen!”

Jensen held up a hand for Jared to wait without taking his eyes off Carver. “Do it again, and I’ll slit your throat.”

Carver’s eyes skittered around the table, but the others stared back without response. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, without looking at Jensen.

Jensen’s eyes narrowed, and his lip curled. “Cowering cur, there isn’t a man here who doesn’t know you cheat. Try it again, and I will gut you.” He poked the air between them with the dagger, and despite his size, Carver flinched that time.

“All right, Jen, he gets the message,” Jared said. “Put your pig sticker away, love.”

Jensen leaned back in his seat, and the dagger disappeared below the table. Clubs were trump, but Jared could see that Jensen had a red hand. “Play,” Jensen said.

“Play,” Christian echoed.

“Pass,” said Caro. He threw five coins in the pool, and discarded his hand.

“Play,” Greasy said and added his five coins to the pool.

Carver eyed his cards and swallowed. “Pass,” he said, but before he could slide his cards under the discard pile, Jensen grabbed his wrist.

“Jensen!” Jared said. No doubt the Pam was in Carver’s hand. “He’s looed. Let it go.”

Jensen released Carver’s arm and leaned back. He laid down his hand – five of a kind, diamonds. Christian groaned and laid down four hearts and a spade.

As play continued, Jensen won more hands than he lost, and Carver just the opposite. He became increasingly glum as time wore on, but Jensen and the others drank and played companionably. As Jared watched Jensen play, he couldn’t help but think of the young man’s father who’d gambled his family into destitution and left his wife and small child at the mercy of fate.

“I’m out,” Jensen finally declared.

“Give us a chance to win back our coins, Jenny,” Christian said with a grin.

“Another time,” Jensen said. “And don’t call me that, Chrissy.”

Jared threw his head back and laughed. Christian’s face flushed in anger, but then he chuckled. “Fair enough,” he said.

“I want a bottle of that spiced rum,” Jensen said. He rose, and having gathered his winnings, he began to make his way between the tables to the bar. Jared watched the tall, broad-shouldered figure topped with a swaying crown of gray and white feathers set in the aubergine hat. Jensen wasn’t halfway across the barroom when a sailor grabbed him.

“Aren’t you a pretty little catamite!” the man shouted and tried to pull Jensen down on his lap.

Jared was out of his seat, but didn’t have a chance to walk around the table when blood gushed from the sailor’s nose under the impact of Jensen’s fist. Before Jared could get to them, the man had disappeared from view. Jared and the others shoved their way through the crowd to find the man on his back with Jensen pummeling him. Jared lifted Jensen from the man, and it took Caro and Christian’s help to get the snarling young man from the tavern. He continued to struggle and swear, and Jared finally pushed him away hard enough to send him sprawling across the pavement.

Jensen jumped up and rushed them. “Mind your business!” he yelled.

“You are my business, boy!” Jared yelled back. “Now get on the ship!” He shoved Jensen in the direction of the docks. Jensen scowled at him, picked his hat up from where it had fallen on the cobblestones, and put it on. He then turned abruptly and walked away.

“My God, what a hellion!” Christian exclaimed. “He must be a wildcat in bed.”

Jared chuckled. “You have no idea.” He slapped his friend on the shoulder and followed Jensen.

 

  
  
“Men are pigs!” Jensen announced when Jared opened the cabin door. Jensen looked up with a glare, and the door jerked from Jared’s hand and slammed shut. Jared turned with a start, but there was no one there to have grabbed it. “Must be a storm coming,” he mumbled.

Jensen didn’t reply, but a smirk curled the corner of his mouth. “Disgusting, entitled, self-centered oafs,” Jensen continued.

Jared leaned back against the door and watched Jensen dig through his trunk. There was an oppressive air in the cabin. The shadows seemed to press in from the corners and trap the lamp light into a small pool.

Petticoats and chemise were piled around Jensen’s feet. His fine new hat lay on the bed and his boots were flung to the far sides of the room. His back was bare and his breeches hung low on his hips. The cat was perched on the shelf watching him with wary, glowing blue eyes.

He grabbed a handful of apricot-colored silk, lifted and the discarded it. “Lustful, weak, small-minded, gluttonous swine.”

“I’m a man,” Jared said. “I’m not a pig.”

Jensen paused and glared at him before pushing his breeches off and pulling the ribbon from his hair. He stood there buck naked and lovely in the lamplight. 

“Prove it,” he said. His arms hung at his sides and his cock hung soft between his legs. It wasn’t an invitation, and Jared knew it.

He nodded and raised the bottle of rum to his mouth. He took a long swallow and pushed himself away from the door. As he approached Jensen, the boy tensed. Jared didn’t touch him. Instead, he bent over and picked up an ivory robe edged in Belgian lace. As he shook it out, he wondered what Lady Alsby was doing for dressing gowns. He wrapped it around Jensen.

“Here, put this on, love,” he said.

Jensen held his arms up and let Jared put the garment on him and tie the belt. “There now. That’s lovely with your eyes.” He touched the end of his index finger to the emerald. “You’re beautiful.”

Jensen’s eyebrows knitted. “You don’t want me.”

“Of course, I do,” Jared said. He caressed the back of Jensen’s neck, ran his fingers up into his hair. “I always want you, but I won’t take you if you don’t want it.” Jared wondered when he became that kind of man.

Jensen sighed and dropped his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Jared kissed his forehead. “You don’t have to be sorry. We’ve both drunk too much. We should go to bed.”

Jensen nodded, and Jared dropped his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed and held up one foot. “Will you help me off with my boots?”

Jensen grasped the heel with one hand and the arch with the other and tugged the boot off. He did the same with the other boot, and Jared swung his long legs up onto the bed.

“Why don’t you blow out the lamp and lie with me,” he said. “I promise not to be a pig.”

Jensen chuckled; then went to the table where he put a hand over the lantern chimney at angle and blew into it to snuff the flame. Jared heard the rustle of cloth and when Jensen climbed onto the bed, he felt only bare skin under his hands. Jensen curled against him, and Jared stroked his hair until his breathing became deep and even.

 

  
  
Jared awoke alone. He sprawled on his back with the sheet tangled around his calves. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night to use the chamber pot and stripped naked before curling himself back around Jensen in the cool night air. Now the air was heavy with the promise of coming rain. Gray morning clouds filled the cabin with a pallid light. 

Both Jensen and the blue-eyed cat he had begun to call Angel were missing from the room. Jared swung his feet to the floor and scrubbed his hands over his bleary eyes. His mouth felt like a wharf rat had crawled inside and died. He pushed himself to his feet and went to the barrel in the corner. He scooped a pitcher of water from it and poured it into the basin below the mirror. His eyes looked as bad as they felt, and he figured his breath smelled as bad as his mouth tasted.

He scrubbed his mouth with a brush and tooth powder, spitting out the window. He trimmed his beard and washed and pissed, tossing the whole lot of waste water out the window after. He ran his fingers through his hair and got dressed. His stomach growled then, and he decided to go in search of food and his bedmate.

The wind on deck was gusty, and the rigging gave an occasional snap when caught by a hard breeze. Caro stood leaning against the rail beside Jensen. The Nigerian wasn’t quite as tall as Jensen but just as pretty in his way with large dark eyes and smooth skin. He smiled at Jensen, teeth bright against full dark lips. He saw Jared out of the corner of his eye then and said something to Jensen who glanced over his shoulder at Jared. Jensen replied, and Caro handed Jensen the spyglass and walked away.

“Mornin’, Cap,” Caro said in passing. A slight smile pulled at his lips, but rather than the usual sparkle with which his gaze met Jared’s, he looked quickly away.

“Morning,” Jared replied. Jensen was still at the rail. He was wearing breeches and boots, a white shirt and dark jacket. A red and white striped silk scarf was wrapped around his head, and the ends fluttered in the breeze. He held a cup of tea in one hand and the spyglass in the other. Jared went to stand beside him, and he offered Jared the small telescope.

Jensen pointed off the horizon at the right. “There it is,” he said. “St. Nicks.”

Jared held the glass to his eye, but he knew what he would see – a rocky mound surmounted by green and surrounded by numerous low cayes and coral reefs. He’d ventured close enough to see the coral shoals and narrow beach at the foot of the cliffs. It had never seemed like it was worth the risk of closer inspection. He handed the glass back to Jensen.

“You say Alsby had a plantation there?”

“So he said,” Jensen replied. His eyes were still on the horizon though the island was a mere speck in the distance.

“I think someone took him for a fool,” Jared said. “If there were anything there worth a damned thing, I’d have heard, and there’s no safe channel through the cayes and shoals. It was a lie.”

Jensen peered at him then. “One would think,” he said. “Still ... I wonder.”

“Why?”

“He said there was a house waiting for us,” Jensen said. “He didn’t want the children raised in around the decadence of Port Royal.”

Jared snorted. “That’s strange considering.” He saw Jensen tense. “I’m sorry ...”

“No, you’re right,” Jensen said. “I wonder what’s happened to them.”

“I imagine they’ve returned to England,” Jared said. He saw worry in the stormy eyes that scanned the horizon. “No reason for them to stay in the islands without Alsby.”

“Yes,” Jensen said. He pushed away from the rail. “You’re probably right. My tea’s cold. Shall we find some breakfast?”

“God, yes,” Jared said. “I’m famished.”

 

  
  
Jared spent the day with Christian finding buyers for some of the galleon’s cargo. It had taken longer than usual as some buyers were no longer dealing with pirates. The new governor was less accommodating than the old had been, and there was an uncomfortable tension in the town. 

Jared was relieved to finish their business and return to _The Huntress_. He sent word with Christian and Carver to let the others know they’d cast off in the morning. He had no desire to loiter in the city. He was tired and hungry when he got to the ship, and concerned that Jensen had been out alone retrieving his new clothes from the tailor. He should have known better.

The table was piled with food. There were mangoes and star fruit, roast chicken, oysters, and boiled shrimp, a jar of honey and one of marmalade, loaves of bread, a bottle of rum and one of red wine. Jared’s mouth watered at the smell rising from the chicken and his stomach growled.

Jensen grasped his wrist and pulled him toward the table. “Sit,” he said.

“Where did you get all this?” Jared asked.

“The market,” Jensen laughed. “Where else? I had some money left over from what you gave me to pay for my clothes.”

Jared sank onto a chair and pulled Jensen down on his lap. Jensen’s arms slipped around his neck, and they kissed. Jared picked up a slice of mango and held it out for Jensen just to see that pretty mouth consume the fruit again.

“It was a long day,” Jared said. “This is unexpected and wonderful.”

“I did well?” Jensen asked. He’d turned and removed a leg from the chicken. He picked a morsel of meat from the bone and held it out to Jared who took the bite. It was juicy and savory, and he hummed in satisfaction. He sat there in the most ridiculous manner with Jensen on his lap, eating fruit and shellfish, and bread dripping with honey. He licked Jensen’s fingers and lips. And Jensen smiled. He talked about the tailor and the people he’d met at the market, the juggler he’d seen on the street. He scolded Angel for sitting in his chair at the table, but the recrimination was mild, and the cat ignored him as it politely sat with blue eyes peering over the edge of the table. It looked slightly insulted when Jensen put some torn up chicken onto a saucer and placed it on the floor, but hesitated only a moment before jumping down and devouring it.

Jared took a swig of wine from his cup. “This was most satisfying to come back to,” he said.

“Good, I’m glad,” Jensen said.

“You,” Jared kissed him, “you are pleasing to come back to.”

Jensen’s smile broadened. “There’s more,” he said. He knelt at Jared’s feet and tugged his boots off; then rose and pulled Jared to his feet. Jared saw then that the bed was covered in fresh, white linens and a red counterpane. New fluffy cushions were piled against the headbboard.

“How on earth …” he started to ask, but Jensen was stripping his clothes from him and washing him down with cool water. The light touches and gentle stroke of the wet cloth over his heated skin had his cock swelling at the promise of a clean soft bed and Jensen’s body. He couldn’t remain passive but took the cloth from Jensen’s hand and tossed it behind him. He cupped the back of the boy’s head and kissed him, licked the tangy sweet of mango from his lips, and delved deep into the wet cavity of his mouth.

He untied the dressing gown Jensen was wearing and pushed it off his shoulders. It puddled at their feet as he drew Jensen into his arms. Jensen seemed to melt against him, fingers stroking and teasing over his back and ass. His erection was trapped between them right alongside Jared’s. Jensen rubbed against him, skin dragging against sensitive skin.

Jared had had his share of both sexes and liked them both, but Jensen was like no one else. He fitted into Jared’s arms in a way no tiny woman could. Tall and solid and strong, he could meet Jared’s passion with as much fervor as any man, but his skin was as soft, his eyes as pretty, his mouth as talented as any woman’s. For a man addicted to risk, Jensen’s unpredictability and violent streak were exciting.

They tumbled to the bed in a tangle of limbs, wet mouths on fevered skin, bellies already slick with precome. Jensen bucked beneath him to spread his legs and wrap them around Jared’s waist.

“Breed me,” he gasped against Jared’s lips. “I’m ready.”

“Aye,” Jared said when he felt oil along the crease of Jensen’s ass. He moved his hand between them and slicked his cock with their precome. He lined up the crown with Jensen’s hole, and Jensen raised his hips, gripping Jared with his legs, and engulfing Jared’s cock with his clutching flesh.

“Ah, Mother of God, Jen,” Jared groaned. Jensen’s channel was hot and snug. Jared couldn’t help thinking of the kid readying himself with his fingers and the bottle of oil. He sank into Jensen to the hilt, and as he pulled out, Jensen moved too until they’d found a rhythm with both bodies stretching and curling in concert with one another.

Jensen’s cheeks were flushed, eyes green slits beneath lush lashes, and moan after moan fell from parted lips. Jared swallowed them with his mouth as he thrust fast and hard into the welcoming body beneath him. The kiss was broken when Jensen pushed his head back into the cushions and hot jets of come erupted between them. His muscles clenched around Jared, tipping him over the edge. Waves of pleasure crashed over him as he spilled his seed deep into Jensen’s channel. Jared slowly spiraled down with the waves becoming smaller and weaker.

He kissed the long line of Jensen’s throat where he lay panting. When he started to pull out, Jensen tightened his legs around Jared’s waist. “No, stay a moment,” he said. His muscles grasped tight around Jared’s sensitive cock, making him flinch. Jensen smirked. “I like you inside me. Like it when you drip out of me hours later.”

The thought of it set a fire in Jared’s chest. His skin felt itchy and tight. “Aye, this feels like home.” The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about them. His natural reaction was embarrassment, but the smile in Jensen’s eyes dispelled that. The kiss that followed was fervent.

“So …” Jared said.

“So, I’m thirsty,” Jensen replied.

“Mmm, rum or wine?” Jared asked as he pulled out and rose from the bed. He shooed Angel from the chair at the table, but not before the cat grabbed a shrimp and scurried under the table with it.

“Wine, I think,” Jensen replied. He retrieved the wet cloth from the floor and began wiping the come from his chest and the crease of his ass. He went to the wash basin and rinsed the cloth out. When Jared came up behind him with a cup of wine, Jensen turned and wiped his cock clean.

“Let’s lie back down, love,” Jared said.

Jensen nodded and returned to their bed. The light outside was dying, and Jared lit the lantern and hung it near the bed. He sat with his back to the wall, and Jensen leaned against him. Jared looped one long arm around Jensen’s chest and kissed his neck.

“So you were busy today,” he said. “How’d you carry all this?”

“Caro went with me to help,” Jensen said.

“Ah, so that’s what you two were conspiring about this morning.” Jared took a drink of wine.

“Mm-hmm,” Jensen murmured. He sounded sleepy from the food and wine and sex.

“Did you notice the mood in town?”

“The tide is turning,” Jensen said.

“What?”

“I went to the governor’s offices …”

“What? Why would you do that?!”

Jensen sat up and faced him. “I wanted to see what I could find out about Lady Alsby and the children.”

“That was a damned foolish thing to do, Jen.”

Jensen’s chin came up and muscle twitched in his jaw. “I’m not a fool,” he said.

“You are a lotman* now, and we are losing favor in this town,” Jared said.

Jensen rose from the bed and went to the trunk where he picked up the dove gray frock coat he’d been wearing the day they’d met. “You see this? I didn’t go as a lotman. I went as gentleman. You forget what I am.”

The anger drained from Jared, and he leaned back. “Ah no, love, I know you’re bon sang.”

“Don’t humor me!”

“I’m not,” Jared said. He held out his hand to Jensen. “I’m not. You’re right, of course. You can move among them.” It was true that Jensen was as well-bred as any of the officials at the governor’s office. That didn’t quell his apprehension over Jensen’s mercurial nature.

Jensen came back to bed with a petulant expression.

“Here, have some wine,” Jared said. “So, what did you find out? Have they returned to London?”

“I don’t think so,” Jensen said. He took a sip of wine. “I spoke with the secretary to the governor. He said that he had heard that they had stayed in the islands. I think they probably went to St. Nicks. Where else would they be?”

“Well, that’s good then, isn’t it?”

“I’d like to see them and make sure,” Jensen said.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and Jared shook his head. “No, we aren’t going to St. Nicks.”

“But why not? We could stop by on the way back to Tortuga,” Jensen said. He knelt up beside Jared.

“A number of reasons, first among them, there’s no port at St. Nicks,” Jared said. “It’s surrounded by shoals. We’d have to anchor far out and row in. _The Huntress_ would be vulnerable. The beach is narrow and the cliffs high …”

“Perhaps there is a better approach on the leeward side,” Jensen said. “You could go around that way to see …”

Anger sparked hot in Jared chest again. “You don’t seem to understand that I am captain by the faith of my crew. I will not remain captain if I command at the whim of my Molly.”

“Oh!”

“You may think of Caro as your friend, but most of the men on this ship do not see you as a friend or a member of the crew. To them, you are my bed warmer.” He rose and pulled his breeches on. Before him was the table still heavy with food, and he looked back at the beautiful boy kneeling in the nest of rumpled linen. “And this,” Jared said with a sweep of his arm that took it all in. “This was a way to get what you wanted from me. It was a bribe.”

Jensen’s eyes widened and he struggled for words, but all that came out was a gasped, _No!_ He shook his head and reached out toward Jared. “I … I didn’t know it was so much to ask. Please …”

Like a fish on a line, Jared was drawn back to the bed. He took Jensen in his arms.

“Forget I asked,” Jensen whispered.

 

  
  
Jared awoke alone as he had the day before. He rose and performed his morning ablutions before leaving the cabin. Unlike the previous morning, Jensen was nowhere to be seen. _The Huntress_ sat at the dock with her deck empty but for one sleeping crewman – a teenage kid with a white stripe in his black hair.

Jared approached the kid who was curled in a pile of rope. He gave his thigh a sharp kick, and the kid sat up with a yelp.

“Skunk! You’re to be on watch, not sleeping,” Jared said.

“I … I didn’t mean … we’re in port, Cap, and …”

“Port or not, you’re to be on watch,” Jared repeated. “What if someone came aboard?”

The boy stood and straightened his grimy jacket. “Sorry, Cap’n. Won’t happen again,” he said with a sheepish expression.

“See it doesn’t,” Jared said. Skunk wasn’t a bad kid. He was just a kid. “Have you seen Jensen?”

“Your Molly? Yeah. He went ashore,” Skunk said.

“Ashore? When?”

“Just after dawn.”

Judging by the sun it was close to 10 a.m., Jared thought. “Was he alone?”

“No, Caro and the Portuguese were with him.”

“Caro and Marques? Did you see where they went?”

Skunk hung his head. “No, sir.”

“No! Because you laid down to sleep on watch!” Jared’s fingers balled into a fist and Skunk cringed. “I’m not going to hit you, you spotty shite! Go rouse the rest of the crew. We’ll cast off as soon as I get back.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Anyone who isn’t back is on their own,” Jared said. “They knew we were leaving today. Go!” He didn’t wait to see the boy scurry off. He walked the gangplank to the dock and strode away. He almost walked by an old man fishing a few feet away, then paused.

“Good fishing?” he asked.

The old man peered up at him. “Nah, never is here.”

Jared wondered why he bothered, but didn’t ask. “Been at it awhile then, have you?”

“All day,” was the curt reply.

Jared nodded. “Did you see anyone leave _The Huntress_ there?”

“Three,” he said with a nod. “An African, a Spaniard, and a girl in breeches with a cat.” He smirked.

“Yes,” Jared agreed. “You didn’t see where they went did you?”

“Oh aye,” the old man said and pointed a gnarled finger at the next pier over. “They left on a sloop there.”

“What? Are you sure?”

The old man’s toothless mouth smacked in disgust. “I’m old, not blind.”

“No, of course not. A sloop you say?” He didn’t really need to ask, but he did anyway. “Did you see which way it headed out of the harbor?”

“Said I’m not blind.” The finger shook as it pointed east. “Off toward Tortuga, din’it?”

Jared nodded. “Of course, it did.”

 

~~~  
*lotman – pirate  


 

 

 

 


	6. Black Jared and the Proper Molly

  
  
The sun was an orange fireball as it sank toward the southern horizon. The old man piloting the sloop was silent, but Jensen could feel the animosity radiating off him. He’d spent the early hours of the voyage grumbling in Spanish.

“What’s he saying?” Jensen had asked Marques early on.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” Marques answered and got an angry glare from Jensen in return. The Portuguese shrugged. “Nothing important,” he’d said.

“I did not ask if it was important,” Jensen said. “What is he bellyaching about?”

Marques had shaken his head and looked out over the waves. “Says you’re a bardajo, dun’t he?”

“A what?”

Marques looked away. “A boy who gets buggered,” Caro said softly, gaze turned from Jensen.

Jensen scoffed. “Does he?” He turned his attention to the old man and caught him watching. The pilot mumbled in Spanish that sounded like _diablo_ as he made the sign of the cross and looked away.

Marques turned a wary eye on Jensen. “Pay him no heed,” he said. “He is old and foolish.”

“Yes,” Jensen agreed. “He is.”

The pilot had eventually fallen silent and ceased watching Jensen. It had taken from dawn to dusk to navigate to the leeward side of St. Nicks, and the boat slipped along the shore of the island, between hidden shoals that only a few experienced sailors like the old Spaniard knew.

In the dying light, they could see small white houses, little more than one or two-room cabins close up to the cliffs surrounded by lush vegetation. Rising above them were paths that wound up the cliff face. The sloop lost sight of the tiny village when the pilot took it close to shore where the ruins of a building stood. A decrepit pier pushed out into the water there, and he eased in next to it.

The pilot spoke to Marques with emphasis and gestured toward open water.

“He says he’ll tie up here tonight,” Marques said. “But he leaves at first light with or without us.”

“Let him,” Jensen said as he gathered up his satchel, and Angel leapt to his shoulder.

“You do not care?” Marques asked.

“I’m staying either way,” Jensen said. “If either of you wish to return, you need to be back before dawn.”

“Aw hell,” Marques exclaimed. “Did you know this?” he demanded of Caro.

Caro shrugged. “I am not surprised.” Jensen smiled at the warm strength in the Nigerian’s voice.

“And you aren’t concerned that the captain will hang us if we don’t return his Molly?” Marques asked.

“I dare say the captain is only a few hours behind us,” Caro said and followed Jensen to the dock. “You coming?”

“Or stay,” Jensen called over his shoulder, “if you like, poltroon.”*

There was silence for a moment before he heard Marques swear and scramble to the dock.

 

  
  
Jensen watched the young woman at the writing desk. Golden ringlets clustered around her cheeks as she bent over the letter she was writing. Lamp light fell on her pale shoulders and the blue of her dress, highlighted the pure white eyelet around the neckline. She was a garden of daisies and morning glories and chrysanthemums.

The picture was a far cry from the girl in the torn nightdress with bruised shoulders and tear-stained cheeks. She had cringed in the corner between the wall and the armoire. He’d murmured to her, _Shh, Polly, hush, it’s all right now_ , and she’d cried harder, _No, Jenny, I’m ruined._

He took a step into the room, and she looked up with a start and overturned the inkwell as she jumped to her feet. He held up one hand palm out as he swept the aubergine hat from his head with the other.

“Jensen?!” She rushed forward and threw her arms around him. He hugged her close and laughed.

She put her hands on his shoulders and held him at arm’s length, looking him over. “You are well?”

“Aye, why wouldn’t I be?”

Her brows knitted. “You escaped then?”

“Escaped? Polly love, I wasn’t a prisoner. I made a deal, remember?”

“A deal?” Her voice wavered and tears glistened in her eyes.

“Ah, sweetheart, there are winning deals.” He pushed the curls back from her cheek.

“So you are well honestly?”

“Yes, _honestly_ ,” he smiled.

She looked him over then, from the scarlet scarf wrapped around his head to the fancy boots on his feet. “Are you a lotman now?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I am one,” he said. He dropped his hat on the desk in passing and went to the sideboard, which held decanters of whiskey and rum and brandy. He poured a glass of the rum. He turned back with a shrug. “I belong to one.”

“You don’t, Jensen,” she said. “Slavery is wrong. You taught me so yourself.”

“Indeed, I did,” he said. He tossed back the liquor, and her eyes widened. “But he owns my heart, Polly darling.”

She shook her head as though confused and then said, “Oh.”

He gently grasped her arms and ran his palms up and down. “Ah, Polly, don’t be sad. It’s a good thing.”

“But, Jen, a man and a man ... the rector said, it’s a mortal sin.”

“Is love ever a sin, darling?”

“You love him?”

Jensen nodded.

“Still, it’s a crime, Jen. You could be hanged.”

Jensen smiled. “Not here. This bit of land is mine.”

Her brows drew together. “Yours?”

“It belonged to my father. It is rightfully mine, and I will have it.” He dropped his hands from her arms and went back to the decanter for another measure of rum.

“And what of us – Mama, Nancy, the little ones?”

“What of you?” he asked. “Your father left homes in London and Surrey. Your mother must go, but you’re welcome to stay, if you like – although, you have a better chance of finding a husband in London.”

“I don’t want a husband,” she said with some heat.

“I can understand that,” he said.

“Can you? Whatever you think you understand, you are still a man with a man’s rights,” she said. “What have I? Your protection?”

“Mine or another’s ... someone who might love you,” he said. “If not then what have you? How will you fair alone without, as you say, rights? Be sensible, Polly.”

“I do not wish to be sensible!” she wailed. “I wish to sail off with pirates and have adventures and fall in love!”

“Oh, darling,” he said and enfolded her in his arms. “Do you truly?”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she sniffed. “Why must my life be so small?”

He drew back and studied her. “Maybe it doesn’t,” he said. “Stay a moment.” He went to the French door and looked out. He could see the ghost of Caro’s shirt in the darkness at the end of the loggia. “Psst!” When the Nigerian approached, Jensen said. “Come in a moment. I want you to meet a friend.”

“Polly, this is a crewmate, Caro – a friend,” Jensen said. “Rum?” he asked.

“Aye,” Caro answered.

“Yes, me too, please,” Polly said. She held her chin up at a jaunty angle.

Jensen arched an eyebrow at her and nodded. He handed each of them a crystal glass, watched Polly take a sip, and smiled at her almost successful attempt to not grimace.

“Let’s sit, shall we?” Jensen sat on the settee with Polly beside him and Caro sat in a chair facing them. “Polly tells me that she wishes to become a pirate and have adventures.”

“Does she now?” Caro asked. Big, dark eyes turned to Polly, sizing her up.

“Yes, but she thinks that she isn’t allowed,” Jensen said.

A broad smile spread over Caro’s face and her eyes sparkled. “Is that true, Miss? You think you can’t have adventure because you lack something twixt your legs?”

A furious blush bloomed in Polly’s cheeks, and Jensen laughed. “A blushing pirate.”

“Don’t tease, Jen.”

“Ah, you are right, darling. We shouldn’t tease. Yours is a serious dilemma.” He looked to Caro who nodded. “Listen, Polly, Caro isn’t so different from you. Her name is Caroline.”

The girl looked from Jensen to the Nigerian and back again. Jensen nodded. “Yes, Caroline is a girl, like you.”

“I, I do not understand,” Polly said. Her eyes traced the other woman’s form coming to rest on her chest.

Caro chuckled. “Aye, I keep ‘em strapped down, but they are there.”

“I ... may I have another drink?” Polly asked.

“Of course, love,” Jensen rose and refilled the women’s glasses. “Why don’t I leave the two of you to talk? I shall be back.”

 

  
  
The first light of dawn was spreading across the waves as the rowboat approached the pier where a sloop was moored. The tall bulk of the island rose above them as Jared leapt to the pier. Christian and Carver followed him. They walked carefully down the dilapidated dock, careful to avoid missing boards. A figure lay on the deck of the sloop. Carver jumped to the sloop and bent to examine the body. 

“Throat’s been cut,” he said.

“Can’t imagine who might have done that, can you, Captain?” Christian sneered.

Jared ignored him. “How long?”

“Cold and stiff,” Carver said.

“Toss him over,” Jared said.

“Jesus ...” Christian swore.

“Can’t have him cooking in the sun all day, mate,” Jared said.

Christian grabbed Jared by the wrist. “Your Molly is a murderous ...”

“Watch your tongue, Christian,” Jared warned. “Jensen’s no more murderous than any one of us.”

Christian stepped in close and lowered his voice. “You know it isn’t the number, Jared. It isn’t that he’s cruel. What he did to that Spaniard’s body on the galleon ... carving it up, and this old man, why? He’s not right, and you can’t control him. The men won’t have him back on the ship.”

“Is that true?” Jared asked. He turned to Carver who joined them on the dock. “Is it true, Carver, that the men won’t have Jensen back on the ship?”

The man’s eyes shifted from the first mate to his Captain and back. He licked his lips. “I fear not, Cap. They don’t trust him.”

Jared nodded. “Then you’re captain, Christian. I’ll turn the helm over to you. I will not captain a crew that has no faith in me.”

“Ah, Jesus Lord in Heaven,” Christian said with a roll of his eyes. “No, you’re our captain. That’s how it stays ... for now at least. Let’s see what your boy is up to.”

“Carver?” Jared asked.

“I’m with Mr. Christian,” he replied.

“So be it ... for now,” Jared said. He turned to go ashore and found the path blocked by a tall, dark skinned man who flashed a polite smile.

“Gentlemen, may I assist you,” he asked. The man seemed at ease enough, but there was a tension in his bearing that told Jared he was prepared to fight, and there was a machete hanging from his belt.

Jared returned the smile. “Perhaps so. We’re looking for a member of our crew. He arrived yesterday on this sloop … with two crewmates and a cat.”

The man’s smile broadened. “Indeed, Miss Polly’s pretty friend.”

Jared’s smile tightened. “Indeed.”

“Allow me to show the way, gentlemen.” He stepped back and motioned for them to follow him onto the path. “I’m Idris. I manage the plantation for Lady Alsby.”

“Captain Jared Padalecki, my first mate Christian, and crewman Carver,” Jared said as they stepped onto the shadowy path.

“Black Jared, yes? I’ve heard tales,” Idris said with what sounded like amusement. “I must say, I’m surprised that you would bother searching out three such insignificant crewmen – unless, of course, they have something of significance of yours. Perhaps the gem that hangs around the pretty one’s neck?”

“Perhaps,” Jared said. They followed Idris up a series of twisting paths to the island’s summit. Dawn was truly breaking across the clearing they stepped into. Smoke arose from the chimney of the cook house and the scent of food cooking made his stomach growl.

Idris laughed. “Your men here can join their crewmates and our workers for breakfast while I take you to your friend,” he said with a suggestive quirk of his brows.

Christian began to object, “I don’t think ...”

“Go on, Christian. I can take care of myself,” Jared said. Christian huffed and stalked off toward the smell of food.

“I’m afraid that you may be losing a crew member, Captain,” Idris said.

“How so?”

“If I have any influence at all, Miss Caroline will be staying here with me,” Idris said. The man’s eyes remained straight ahead, but Jared suspected there might be a slight blush under that dark skin.

“Is that so?” Jared asked. “You have your work cut out for you.”

“As do you, sir,” Idris said as they climbed the steps to the loggia. He turned to Jared as they approached a set of French doors. “Your boy has one foot in this world and one in the other.”

Jared felt a chill go through him. “What do you mean?”

Idris shrugged. “Just that. My people believe that there are many worlds, all here, all now. Most of us can only be in one. Occasionally we get glimpses of another. A few, like your boy, can cross between. They are strong and valuable but vulnerable. They can sometimes speak to the gods. They need to be guarded.” Idris motioned toward the door. “This is his chamber. I’ll leave you to him.”

“Thank you,” Jared said to the man’s back. He took a deep breath and let it out as he gripped the door handle. He pushed the door open and slipped inside. The room was surprisingly cool. It was dominated by a dark wood bed hung with white netting and pale blue silk hung at the corners held back with gold cord. He saw Jensen’s figure in the bed as though through a fog. He pushed the netting aside. Jensen lay naked, sprawled nearly on his stomach with one knee pulled up to the side. The sight was so familiar Jared could almost feel that warm back against his chest, his lips against those freckled shoulders.

He went down on one knee on the bed. Angel arose from a mound of linen in the corner and stretched. She walked to him and allowed him to run a hand over her back before leaping to the floor. Jared leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of Jensen’s neck, inhaled his warmth and scent. The next kiss fell at his hairline, and Jensen stirred, stretched. The next kiss was open-mouthed, wet, and Jared caressed Jensen’s arm.

Jensen came fully awake like fury, rising and turning, striking out. His fist caught Jared across the jaw and wrenched his head to the side. Jared rubbed his jaw and looked up. Jensen had moved back against the head board and his dagger was in his hand. His eyes grew wide.

“Jared.” Jensen relaxed against the headboard, but the dagger remained in his hand. “You fool. I could have killed you.”

“Aye, my mistake, love,” Jared said. He dropped his hand from his jaw. “But I thought you’d be expecting me.”

Jensen looked away but side-eyed Jared. “How was I to know you’d come?”

“Come now, darling,” Jared said as he leaned forward onto his hands. “Isn’t that what this little game was about? Hmm?” He didn’t break eye contact with Jensen as he crawled forward. “I wouldn’t bring you here so you led me?”

Jensen’s hand tensed around the dagger, and his eyes narrowed. “Halt you there,” he murmured. “I came for me, for what is mine. It has nothing to do with you. You chose your way, your ship and crew, not me.”

Jared continued moving closer. “It is not as simple as that, Jen.”

Jensen’s lip curled in a snarl. “Do not crowd me. I belong to no man.”

“What about our deal?” Jared’s chest was tight, and he barely breathed when his throat was within a hair’s breadth of the dagger’s tip. “This is not unfamiliar, is it? Your blade at my throat? What would you do? Spill my blood as you did the whore’s, Angus’s, the Spaniard’s, the old pilot?”

Jensen’s bottom lip trembled. “I don’t wish you dead.”

“Then why is your dagger at my throat?” Jared reached out and stroked the inside of Jensen’s thigh. “I came for you, my love.”

The dagger twitched in Jensen’s hand, and the razor sharp tip bit into Jared’s neck. Jensen gasped, and his eyes darkened. There was little pain from the small wound, but he felt the trickle of warm blood as it made a path down his neck. Jensen dropped the dagger to the coverlet and moved forward. Jared sat back on his heels as the boy surged into his arms, mouth latching onto the cut. Jensen was straddling his legs, cock hard against Jared’s belly, hips working.

Jared tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of Jensen’s neck and yanked his head back. He rose and leaned forward, bearing Jensen to his back and holding him down.

“You listen to me, you vicious little animal,” Jared growled. “You’ll not threaten me again.” The cut on his neck stung now, and he grabbed Jensen’s hands, wrapped his wrists quickly with the cord for the bed hangings and lashed them to the headboard. He tried to move away then, but Jensen's legs circled his waist and held him in place.

“No!” Jensen cried out. He clung to Jared. “Don’t let go ...”

The words froze Jared, dispelled some of the anger, but still he gave Jensen a hard look. The muscles in Jensen’s arms bunched as he used leverage against the headboard to pull Jared closer with his legs.

“Please,” he whispered.

Jared huffed. “No more games, Jen.”

“I swear it. Not with you. Please, please.”

Jared crawled over him, leaned on one arm as he opened his trousers and drew out his cock. “Did you ready yourself for me, love? Did you know I was coming?”

Jensen lie spread out beneath him, flushed and beautiful, hair fanned out across the pillow from their struggle. He nodded. “Yes, I hoped you would.”

Jared dipped his head and captured Jensen’s soft lips with his own as he palmed his cock. As he broke the kiss, Jared caught Jensen’s bottom lip between his teeth, and Jensen whined as Jared suckled it before letting go. Jensen’s legs tightened around his waist as Jared lined his cock up with the boy’s hole before sinking slowly into the molten heat of his body. Jensen’s lashes fell against his cheek. He let out a quiet _oh!_ and bit his lip as Jared bottomed out.

Jared kissed him again as he began to move with slow, deliberate intent. His hips moved in a steady rhythm as he kissed along Jensen’s jaw, sucked at the tender spot beneath his ear, down over the soft length of his throat where Jared felt the boy’s heart beat quick against his lips. Jensen sighed and hummed approval as Jared’s fingers found the hard nub of a nipple and teased it.

“You’re such a bad boy,” Jared murmured in Jensen’s ear. “I shouldn’t be rewarding you this way.”

Jensen’s eyes opened. “No, make me, mm, make me never want to leave your side.”

Jared smiled. “So I shall, in time.”

Jensen’s hard cock was trapped between them, and Jared rose up so it got no friction. Jensen pouted.

“Please, please,” he begged.

“I said, I will,” Jared said. He could feel his own orgasm building, buzzing like the air across the sea before a storm. His balls felt heavy as the tension coiled, but he didn’t pick up the pace. He continued the slow, steady drag of cock, deep, firm. Precome drooled from the head of Jensen’s flushed cock and pooled on his belly.

“Feel good, love?” Jared asked.

“Please, please, please,” he sobbed.

Jensen panted through open lips. His body writhed in an attempt to find satisfaction, but Jared was having none of it. Not yet. And the picture before him, the way Jensen lay there so needy, this vicious boy, shoved Jared over the edge. His orgasm hit like the storm, exhilarating and powerful, and passed like the pounding waves.

He paused, eyes screwed shut, cock deep inside Jensen’s body, come flooding his belly. There was something so satisfying in that alone. His, and no one else’s. When he opened his eyes, Jensen looked drugged, desperate.

Jared pushed Jensen’s legs farther back as he withdrew his cock, watching his still hard flesh slide slowly from the puffy hole. It stayed fucked wide open, and glistening seed dribbled out. Jared bent down and licked at it. The tip of his tongue circled the opening. Jensen’s hips twitched, and Jared plunged his tongue inside. A high keening sound came from Jensen’s throat, and Jared chuckled and lapped at the slick walls of his channel.

Harsh pants came from Jensen, and his body trembled under Jared’s hands. He pulled back with a lick to Jensen’s sac. He looked up the length of Jensen’s body as he slid two fingers inside Jensen’s ass. His muscles tried pathetically to close around them. Jared felt a warm satisfaction in having fucked the boy open so well. He petted the slick, silky walls, and Jensen moaned. Jared kept at it as he shifted up and took the head of Jensen’s dick in his mouth. He suckled it, swallowing down the copious amount of precome oozing from it. The tips of his fingers crooked and found a firm lump inside that made Jensen’s hips buck. He moaned as Jared rubbed. The lump hardened under his attention. Jensen cried out, and come suddenly filled Jared’s mouth and dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

He let his fingers slide from Jensen’s body as he moved up over him. He crushed their mouths together, and Jensen eagerly licked his come from Jared’s mouth. His legs locked around Jared again.

“Do we have an understanding?” Jared asked. “You never run away from me again.”

“No, I won’t,” Jensen said. “My word is good.”

Jared nodded. “I know, love.” He reached up and untied Jensen’s hands before rolled off Jensen and onto his back. He looked up into the blue drapery of the canopy. “There’s something I don’t understand,” Jared said. Jensen curled like a big cat against his side.

“Hmm, what’s that?” Jensen murmured.

“If your father owned this and the house where you grew up, why didn’t he sell them if he was out of money? Or your mother, why didn’t she?”

“She didn’t have the power to,” Jensen said. “They weren’t hers, and he … I don’t know. I was a child. I remember them fighting about money, creditors coming to the door, threats … Then, he died.”

Jared waited to see what more Jensen would add; when he didn’t, Jared asked, “How did he die?”

“He fell,” Jensen said. His voice sounded flat. He rolled onto his back.

“Fell?” When Jensen didn’t answer, Jared rolled onto his side and propped himself up on and elbow. Jensen was looking up at the canopy, but his eyes were unfocused. He wasn’t there. “Jen?”

Jensen blinked and rolled off the bed. He snatched the peacock blue robe from the floor and pulled it on before stumbling and going to his knees. He wrapped his arms around his middle and moaned as though in pain. Jared rushed to him. Jensen’s shoulders trembled under his palms.

“Jen, love, what is it?”

Jensen rocked back and forth. Jared heard him mumbling, leaned in to hear.

“I’m not a whore, I’m not, he’s your son, he is, of course he is,” Jensen said.

“Jen, oh God,” Jared said and pulled Jensen into his arms. “Shh, quiet.”

Jensen let out a shuddering breath and looked up at Jared. It took a moment for his eyes to focus. “He was drunk, screaming because there was no meat at dinner, she blamed him because the butcher wouldn’t sell to us, he, he said we were leaches, we dragged him into the gutter. He called her a, a jade. He said he would put us out. I couldn’t let … I didn’t. I was scared and angry. It was them.” Jensen paused to draw breath. “He, he fell.”

“Who, Jen? Did you see?”

Jensen shook his head. “But I heard them … I was at my chamber door. There was a noise like the howl of the wind, like a thousand voices, and then nothing. I went onto the landing to see. He was lying in the front hall, his neck all … twisted. She knelt by him, pushed the hair back off his forehead, so tender. She said, ‘my son is bon sang.’”

“Of course, you are, love.” Jared stroked his cheek. “He was … drunk and angry, looking to blame someone else. That’s all.”

“Do you … do you think that …”

“I think he was drunk and fell.” He tipped Jensen’s head back and looked him in the eye. “It was an accident, love. Drunk men fall down all the time.” He drew Jensen close and kissed his temple.

He rose and pulled Jensen to his feet. “Come, Jen, let’s lie down. Take off the robe.”

“I’m cold.”

“Yes, love, I know,” Jared said. A warm breeze blew in through the open window. There was no reason for Jensen to be cold. “Lie down. I’ll warm you.” Jared stripped off his clothes and lay down. He took Jensen in his arms and tucked the boy’s head under his chin. “There now. That’s warmer, isn’t it?”

Jensen nodded. “Never let me go,” he said.

“No, Jen, I won’t. I’ll hold onto you.”

Jensen relaxed against him, and after a few moments, his breath became deep and even. Jared watched the shadows slide across the wall.

 

~~~  
* _poltroon_ _-_ _coward_  


 

 


	7. Black Jared and the Proper Molly

Jared strode across the wide lawn toward Christian who sat on a stone bench under the cover of a pine tree. Unlike the hillside where Idris had brought them up the path from the beach, the cliff here dropped off to rocks and foaming waves. Christian leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as he lit a clay pipe packed with tobacco.

“So what do you think of Jensen’s island?” Jared asked as he sat down beside his friend and first mate.

“You mean Lord Alsby?”

“What?”

“Jensen’s father was the older brother. The title passes to Jensen, not the younger brother. He’s a duke and a laird, too, from his mother’s side. The only male in that line. That’s where he gets the Ackles that he’s been using as a surname.” Christian drew on the pipe and side-eyed Jared.

Jared turned it over in his mind before asking, “And where did you get this information?”

“From Idris who got it from Polly,” Christian said. “Do the two of you talk or just rut?”

Jared leaned his elbows on his knees and plucked at the grass between his booted feet. Christian smoked as Jared shredded the grass between his fingers. “You don’t know what he’s been through. You and I, we were raised to believe that the gentry had it easy.” He shook his head. “I think he believes his mother killed his father for him.”

“What do you think?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“She whored herself.”

“What would you have had her do?” Jared said. “Throw herself and her child to the mercy of that pig of a brother-in-law? No, he treated Jensen like a servant. She did what she had to do.”

“Is that what he says?”

“He says she loved him,” Jared said. “And none of that matters now.”

“No, I s’pose not.” Christian tapped the ash from his pipe and stood. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

Jared followed Christian along a path that skirted the cliff’s edge. Spread out below them was the pale blue of shallow water dotted with shoals and larger islands covered in mangrove hammocks. Christian stopped at a turn in the path that was in the shadow of heavy vegetation.

“Look there,” he said pointing below. A deep blue channel ran along a narrow beach at the foot of the cliff. Dense mangroves clumped along the other side of it. Jared felt his pulse quicken.

“Do you think it is deep enough for _The Huntress_?” he asked.

“Looks to be, doesn’t it?” Christian asked.

Jared nodded thoughtfully. “Just stumble upon this, did you?”

“Idris showed me it,” Christian said.

“Why would he?”

Christian shrugged. “We got talking, you see, about Port Royal and the chilly welcome we got there. You felt it too, yes?”

“Yes,” Jared said. “Jensen went to the governor’s office and said that it’s coming from the top. Change is on the horizon.”

“Well, change is coming here too,” Christian said. “Your rabid dog is soft-hearted on the subject of slavery and under his tutelage influenced Miss Polly greatly,” Christian said with smirk. “She intends to free the slaves her father owned here.”

“Stop trying to provoke me, Christian,” Jared growled. “What is your point?”

“Guess what this plantation produces? Hm? Rum.”

“So?”

“So, they’ve always had a problem getting it to market as you can imagine,” he said. “Alsby wasn’t bright enough to discover the channel.” Their gazes both went to the dark water below. “They’ve been taking barrels out by sloop, and …”

“Pirates get half their export on the open seas?”

Christian grinned. “I think we’ve picked off a couple ourselves.”

“Indeed,” Jared said. “But with a ship and crew like ours, the rum, a perfectly legitimate cargo, could get to market.”

“That was Mr. Elba’s thought too,” Christian said.

“We’ll need to talk with the crew and Jensen and Mr. Elba,” Jared said as he turned back up the path.

“Caro might be a good intermediary there,” Christian said.

“Yes, so I’ve heard,” Jared said.

“Did you know?”

“Know?” Jared turned as they emerged onto the lawn again.

“About Caro, that he held a cove twixt his legs?”

“Yes, of course,” Jared said. “He was a good crewman.”

“Indeed, he was,” Christian chuckled, and then his expression became serious. “Listen, Jensen will be important in making any alliance work. You understand? And he’s …”

“Unpredictable?”

Christian nodded. “Volatile, violent … off the hooks.*”

Jared nodded. “He’s smart and there’s reason for him to make this work, Christian.”

“I hope that’s true.”

 

  
“You see the sense of it, don’t you, love?”

Jensen narrowed his eyes. “Don’t ‘love’ me when we’re talking business.”

“I do enjoy doing business in bed,” Jared said. He propped himself up against the headboard and uncorked a bottle of rum. “Shall I call you Lord Alsby?”

The muscle in Jensen’s jaw twitched. “I’m not my father or uncle. Call me that foul name, and I’ll cut your throat.”

“Ah, ah, ah, you swore, no more daggers at my throat,” Jared reminded him. He handed Jensen the bottle of rum.

“So I did,” he said. “This rum is superior.” He tipped the bottle to his lips.

“Mmm, it’s right knock-down,” Jared agreed as he watched the boy’s throat work with growing arousal.

“We’re freeing the slaves,” Jensen said. He caught sight of Jared’s cock tenting the linens and smirked.

“Agreed,” Jared said.

“They can choose to stay and take payment for their work or they can leave,” Jensen said.

“Seems fair.”

Jensen side-eyed him.

“And the crew as well,” Jared said. “We need to meet with Idris, Christian and the others.”

“Caro and Polly,” Jensen said. He leaned forward, and Jared rubbed his back.

“Oh?”

Jensen twisted around to look him square in the eye. “They have a stake in this,” he said.

“Yes, I suppose they do,” Jared agreed. He took Jensen’s hand and directed it to his hard length beneath the sheet. “Enough business for now, don’t you think?”

A slow smile spread across Jensen’s face as his eyes darkened. “For now, _love_.”

 

  
“So, it’s quite settled then, is it not? Our people will get land for houses and shops. Any money we make there is ours to keep,” Idris said. He looked around the table at Jensen, Jared, Christian, and Polly who sat to his left. Caro sat to his right at a large round table in upper salon. French doors at each side allowed the breeze through.

They’d already discussed production and distribution and the needs of _The Huntress’_ crew. Things had proceeded smoothly so far. Jared sat back and sipped his drink, and let the others talk.

“Our people need more than pay, you understand,” Idris said. “They don’t all want to be field or distillery workers. We have a blacksmith, a doctor, a laundress, others who will need shops for the businesses. We need land and homes.”

Jensen nodded. “I’ll deed that land to you to divide amongst yourselves as you choose. Your people govern yourselves within those boundaries.” He bit his lip. “But be warned not to become a threat to me or mine. I’ll not try to impose my will upon you. We work together within a contract, yes?”

“Yes,” Idris said. His voice was tight with anger. “Do you not trust my word, sir?”

Jensen’s voice matched Idris’ in tone and volume. “I don’t trust anyone I don’t know.”

“Jenny,” Polly said quietly.

Jensen’s eyes widened, and he went silent.

“This is a negotiation of goodwill,” the girl continued. “We are all taking a risk together.”

Jensen’s eyes went unfocused for a moment, and Jared felt something cold twist in his chest before Jensen looked at Polly. “Some of us have more at risk than others,” Jensen said.

“More than their lives?” Idris inquired.

“Our men risk their lives with every ship they take,” Caro said. “You know that, Jensen.”

Jensen looked at Polly. “Yes, you’re right, one cannot weigh a life against honor, can one?” He held Polly’s gaze. The others exchanged glances.

“Right,” Jared said. “That’s agreed then. We need to look at shares between Jensen as landowner, the workers, and the crew.”

“Three-way split seems fair,” Caro said.

“What? How is that fair?” Christian asked. “He does nothing and gets a third?”

“Christian …” Jared said.

“Because your ship docks at my pier and transports my rum,” Jensen said. “The workers plant on my land and use my distillery. That’s why.”

Jared tried again to intervene. “Jensen …”

“I’ve agreed to shares, for God’s sake,” Jensen said. “This isn’t feudalism. I’m not asking anyone to call me lord. I’m giving these people land and a stake in their work. And you, all of you!” His lip curled and he pointed a finger at Christian. “I’m probably saving you all from the gallows. The time of pirates is ending. Don’t be a greedy poltroon.”

Christian spit out, “You mad-bred …”

“Enough!” Jared roared. His fist came down on the table with a bang. “I’ve had all I’ll take from you.” He pinned Christian with a stare. “You will let it go, or you will find another ship, Mr. Kane.” He looked at Jensen. “And you are no better than any one of us, so come down off your high horse.” The look he got in return told him it wasn’t the end of it from Jensen, but he’d save it for later. “Good. I think a three-way split sounds fair.”

Polly nodded. “I’ll draft a contract for everyone to look at.”

“Thank you, Miss,” Jared said. “Idris, Caro, you talk to the workers.”

Idris nodded.

“Christian and I will talk to the crew,” Jared said. The group rose. Caro and Idris talked between themselves, and Polly gathered up her notes.

“Shall we go now, Cap?” Christian asked.

“Yes, just a moment,” Jared said. He turned to speak to Jensen, but the boy had already left the room. “Dammit, I’ll meet you out front in 15 minutes.”

“Aye,” Christian said with a shake of his head.

Jared found Jensen in the hallway, headed toward his chamber.  His step was quick, and his broad shoulders were squared and tense.

“Jen, love, hold up,” Jared said.

Jensen didn’t stop or acknowledge he’d heard, but Jared’s long stride ate up the distance between them. He grabbed Jensen’s arm and swung the boy around. Jensen tried to shove him away, but Jared hung on and backed him up against the wall.

“Stop running away from me,” Jared growled.

“I’m not running away, you swine,” Jensen said. “I’m stopping myself from sticking a dagger in you.” He tried to push Jared away again, but Jared grabbed his wrists and forced his hands to his sides.

“Why because I didn’t back up your power play?” Jared leaned in, trapping Jensen against the wall.

“Power play? Is that how you see it? Because I pointed out that I had a stake in this, too?”

“I couldn’t look partial, Jen.” Jared’s knee pushed between Jensen’s legs. “I needed to diffuse the situation, yes?” He kissed Jensen’s temple, but Jensen stubbornly kept his head down, his lips out of reach.

“Swine,” Jensen mumbled.

“You like being buggered by this swine though,” Jared whispered in his ear. “Don’t you? Angry as you are, you want to bend over and have me fill your windward passage, eh?” Jensen struggled against him in irritation at his coarseness, but Jared felt Jensen’s cock hardening against his thigh.

“Step away, sir!” a woman said.

Jared turned his head. There stood Polly with a pistol trained on him.

“What do you propose to do with that, Miss?” Jared asked. He didn’t let up his grip on Jensen’s wrists or lessen the pressure with which he held Jensen against the wall. “Would you risk shooting your precious Jenny? Are you such a good shot?”

“She is actually a dead aim,” Jensen said. “I taught her to shoot.”

Jared huffed. “Of course you did,” he said and let go of Jensen’s wrists.

Jensen laughed and squirmed from between Jared and the wall. He ignored the pistol and drew Polly into his arms.

“Polly, darling, my champion,” he said. He laughed again and kissed her on the forehead.

Jared noted her outraged expression and turned to lean against the wall with arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, don’t be cross, Polly,” Jensen said. “There’s nothing to threaten the Captain over.”

Polly’s mouth dropped open. “Nothing to … he was, he was manhandling you, assaulting …” Her gaze flicked back and forth between Jensen’s placating expression and Jared’s increasingly amused one.

“Yes, you’re right, he was manhandling me, something that I quite enjoy, and he knows it,” Jensen said.

Polly looked at Jensen as though he was some strange creature she’d just encountered. “Truly?” she asked.

“Yes, truly,” he said.

“He doesn’t hurt you?”

“No,” Jensen said. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “He does not.”

She nodded and released the hammer on the pistol. She looked up at Jared then. “You had better never harm him.” There was steel in her gaze.

“You have my word,” Jared said, but he couldn’t help the smirk that twisted his mouth.

She turned down the hallway with her head high.

“You need to go to the ship with Christian,” Jensen said.

“Aye, much as I’d rather continue our conversation,” Jared replied.

They started down the corridor toward the front hall together, and Jared threw his arm around Jensen’s shoulders, hugged him close. “You heard me give her my word, did you not?”

“I did.”

“Good,” Jared said. He stepped from the shady hall into the afternoon sun. Two steps down onto the loggia had him within arm’s length of Christian, and he swung. His fist caught the first mate in the jaw and snapped his head back. Christian stumbled and righted himself. He put a hand to his jaw.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” he demanded.

“T’was for my boy,” Jared said. “Let it be a reminder to watch your mouth in the future.”

Christian’s gaze flicked to the doorway behind Jared where Jensen stood and back to Jared who turned and winked at Jensen.

“Come along, Christian,” Jared said. “We’ve got crew to negotiate with.”

“You should have thought of that before you struck me, you bastard,” Christian grumbled. “You might need a friend.”

Jared put his arm around Christian’s shoulder and grinned. “You know, you’re my friend, Christian. If you weren’t, I would have pummeled you into a bloody little smear a long time ago for the way you talk about Jen.”

Christian pulled away and tipped his head. “Lord, it is like that, is it?”

Jared felt heat rise in his face, and he strode away.

“I’ll keep it to myself then, shall I, Cap?” Christian said as he followed behind.

Jared just shook his head and kept walking.

 

  
Jensen left a trail of clothing from his chamber door to the bed. He lay down and pressed his face into the pillow where Jared had lain. He inhaled deeply. He was still stirred from their encounter in the hallway, and Jared punching Mr. Kane hadn’t done anything to quell that arousal.

Reaching under himself, he wrapped his hand around his hard length and stroked it. His hips rolled down in response. He was nearly suffocating himself in the pillow as he fucked into his fist with increasing desperation, but it wasn’t enough. He flopped onto his back and spread his legs, he pushed two precome slick fingers into his hole with a gasp, and began to jack himself with his other hand. Two fingers weren’t nearly comparable to Jared’s length and girth, but it was better than an empty hole.  He pushed a third in, and by straining, he could brush that sweet spot inside. His balls were heavy and tension coiled in his gut.

He dug his heels into the mattress and his toes curled as his orgasm swept over him. His hole convulsed around his fingers. Ropey jets of hot slick fell across his belly and chest, and he bit back a moan before going limp on the bed. He let his fingers slide from his body, and his hand lay loose and open on the bed beside him as the other traced patterns in the come splattered across his chest. His fingers went to his mouth again and again to suck the sticky release from them.

He had a place now. His place with his man. Jared was loyal, protective, and smart. Jared understood and respected him. They’d be safe here with a cliff for a castle and pirates for a navy. No one would take this from him. Not this place or his man. He turned his face into the pillow again and inhaled, let his eyes fall shut, drifted away.

He dreamed of a garden full of flowers with their faces turned up to the sun. Gentle breezes blew, and they danced to its tune. When the rain came it was warm and gentle. The flowers drank it in with quiet laughter. He sank down among them and took root.

When Jensen awoke the angle of the sunlight falling through the shutters had moved up the wall. He rose from the bed and washed before going to the window. He opened the shutter and looked out. Sunlight glinted off the window of the kitchen building, and shadows fell across the lawn. Beyond the scattered cayes, there, moving from the island, was _The Huntress_.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.” He shook his head. He turned and searched the room. Wash stand, dresser, wardrobe, empty bed. Alone. There the looking glass. He went to it and looked into wide, green eyes, darker than the gem that lay against his skin. “Dasher,” he whispered. He picked up a pot of rouge and dabbed some onto his lips, which curled in distaste. “Loose in the rump, what do you expect?”

He thrust his fingers into his sleep flattened hair to arrange it, but they caught and pulled and tangled it. He looked sallow and pinched his cheeks to bring color to them. Some rum. That would give him color. He went to the bedside where Jared … the liquor burned his throat and fell scorching in his gut, but he took another pull on the bottle and another … a lie, t’was all a lie … _you heard me give her my word … he’s your son, of course he is … whoreson …_

Invisible fingers pulled at his sleeves, drawing him forward. He stumbled onto the loggia in the garnet dressing gown with the bottle hanging loosely in his hand. He gulped in the ocean air. The sun was low behind the house, the shadows longer across the lawn. Scarlet bougainvillea hung from the balcony above. A long vine was broken off and wrapped it around his neck. It smelled lovely. It would cover the smell of sex and the stench of shame.

He heard the roar of wind like a thousand whispering voices but the fronds of the palms were still in the heavy air. _You belong to us. Come with us, pretty._ He shook his head, but they whispered on. _Dirty boy. Whoreson. No one wants you._

Here a hibiscus was put in his hair and here another. The stone paving of the loggia was warm under his bare feet, and why not be barefoot, common as he was. What’s in a title when the boy is a bastard? He tripped on the steps and went to his knees in the grass. He laughed, but it was an ugly sound without humor or joy.

He pushed himself to his feet and pulled the robe back over his bared shoulder. Realizing he still held the bottle of rum, he brought it to his lips, as much ran down his chin as into his mouth. It took a moment for him to realize that the bottle was empty, and he dropped it at his feet. He stood a moment, head spinning, the cacophony in his ears.

He looked about and was vaguely aware of figures far across the lawn near the kitchen, and shadowy shapes darted and swooped around him. Ghostly fingers plucked at his hair and gown. A woman was running down the steps from the loggia. She held her skirts up as she raced toward him. Her blonde curls bounced like the golden petals of a daffodil in a spring storm. He turned away and made for the blue horizon.

“Jensen!” she called. “Jenny, wait!” A hand grabbed at his sleeve, and he stumbled. The dressing gown slipped from his shoulder again. He stopped and tried to pull it up, but his fingers couldn’t grasp it.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He gestured behind him. “To sea,” he said.

“What?” Polly said. “What do you mean ‘to sea’?”

“I was wrong, Polly,” Jensen said. “Once you pick a flower, it’s ruined. It’s dead.”

“You aren’t making sense, Jen,” she said. “Come back in the house. You’re drunk.”

“No! Don’t you hear them? Don’t you understand? We’re ruined, Polly,” he said. “He’s gone.”

“No, no, he won’t leave you,” she said. “He won’t. He loves you.” She clutched at him, but he shoved her away. She nearly fell.

“He’s already gone!” Jensen shouted. “And I’m going too.” He turned and lurched toward the cliff’s edge. And it was right there before him – no more deals or negotiations or contracts – below was a field thick with forget-me-nots.

“No!” the sunflower shrieked. “Jenny, no! No!”

He could almost smell the flowers and hear their call. He wanted to drown in them, join them in their mindless, painless never ending dance. He let himself fall.

 

  
Jared could have sworn there was a shadowy cloud engulfing Jensen at the precipice of the cliff. It was as though he and Polly were in two different places – she in the sun, and he in a storm. Jared pushed her aside without a thought. The cuff of the dressing gown was like gossamer against his fingertips, but silk isn’t a butterfly’s wing. He clutched it and yanked Jensen backward from the edge of the cliff. Jensen slammed into Jared’s chest and fell to his knees at the pirate’s feet.

He looked up at Jared with wide, wild eyes. His hair was matted and tangled, crushed hibiscus blooms were tucked into the mess here and there. The wreath of scarlet bougainvillea around his neck matched the rouge smeared on his lush lips. His cheeks were flushed, and the dressing gown hung loose, exposing his pale, freckled shoulders.

Jared felt such a confusion of emotions, he could barely breathe. “My God, but you are tragic, Jen,” he said.

“You aren’t real,” Jensen said. He shook his head and leaned back on one hand.

Jared knelt and pushed the hair back from Jensen’s brow. “I’m right here, love,” Jared said. “Not going anywhere.”

Jensen looked back over his shoulder at the speck that was _The Huntress_ on the horizon. “The ship …”

“Is taking the crewmen who don’t want in on our deal to Tortuga,” Jared said. He grasped Jensen’s chin and made him face him. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

Jensen blinked as though clearing sleep from his eyes. “You’re here.”

“Yes,” Jared said. “Now let’s go inside, hmm?” He pulled Jensen to his feet as he rose. He covered Jensen’s shoulders and plucked flowers from his hair with a sad smile. Unwinding the vine from Jensen’s neck, Jared tossed it aside and held the boy close. He smelled like Jared’s bed – spicy and warm and earthy. He inhaled deeply. It was comfort and excitement and pleasure all rolled into one. Jared knew that whatever else Jensen was, he’d never be tired or bored of him.

As he put an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and turned to lead him back to the house, he saw half a dozen figures pretend to be busy doing something else. He wondered how Jensen’s behavior would sit with the workers. He’d have to talk to Idris and Caro about damage control, but not now.

 

~~~   
*off the hooks – crazy  
 dasher – harlot

 


	8. Black Jared and the Proper Molly

 

 

Lady Alsby sailed into the salon like a galleon on a sea of foamy blue silk as only a true woman of breeding could. She moved as though she had not legs but a tea cart beneath the yards of lace and ruffles. She fiddled with a tiny, useless, lace hankie in her hands, but held her tall frame erect. She crossed the room to the high French doors and looked out over the lawns.

Jared watched her in irritation. He’d just wanted some time alone. This was to have been Lord Alsby’s study, and it was one of the few rooms with furniture anywhere near large enough for Jared’s frame. He lounged on a settee, with his feet up, drinking tea and looking through a stack of periodicals from London.

“This house is large enough that you need not be in my presence, Madam,” he said.

She turned with the movement of a hen settling ruffled feathers. “But it isn’t your house to be in, is it, _Sir_?” she asked.

“Nor is it yours, _Madam_ ,” he replied. He dropped his feet to the floor and sat up. “It belongs to your nephew.”

Her nose twitched as though she’s smelled something foul. “My brother-in-law was a wastrel, a degenerate, and a fool who married no better than he deserved.” Her already thin lips pressed into a colorless line. “The offspring they produced is the worst of both – weak, immoral, and mad.”

“Mind your tongue, Madam, or you may lose it,” Jared said.

“Don’t you threaten me, you rogue.” She twisted the hankie in her hands. “My Lord was a good man until that ... creature came into our house. He was seduced by that pretty face and twisted nature. The whoreson is no better than his mother.”

Jared came off the settee so fast she barely had time to gasp before he drove her against the wall with a huge hand around her throat. Her pulse beat wildly against his fingers, and her throat was a fragile stem beneath his palm.

“You take it back, or I’ll choke the life from you, you venomous, dried up husk of a nag,” Jared growled. “He protected your children.”

“He corrupted their father,” she wheezed. Her eyes were bright with righteousness against her florid skin.

“No! Please, Captain!” Polly was suddenly at his side, clutching his arm. “Let her go! For our sake, please! You do Jensen no good by this!” she pleaded.

Jared released his grip on Lady Alsby’s throat and walked to the French doors. Before him, the evening sun cast long shadows across the rolling green lawn toward the cliffs. Beyond, the blue sea stretched to the horizon. There were hacking coughs behind him and the murmur of voices.

Polly came to stand at his elbow. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’d be better off without her,” he said. “You’ll have enough to look after with your sisters.”

“She’s my mother,” she said.

“She left you to your father’s pitiful mercy,” he scoffed. She was tall as her mother, with flaxen hair and eyes that were almost violet. She had more color in her cheeks than she had when he’d first seen her on the ship. Perhaps not a beauty, but her intelligence and spirit made her attractive. He wondered how appealing that would be to the average gentleman. “What she said about Jensen corrupting your father ...”

Her gaze went to the lawn and his followed it to a figure in a cerulean robe with sun-kissed hair. “He did what he did protect us. He made a deal. The lesser of two evils, he said.”

Jared thought of the deal he and Jensen had made, and he felt sick. “Holy Mother ...”

“We’re not so different, you and I,” she said, “but you can protect him.”

He pulled his eyes from Jensen to Polly. “From what?”

“From himself, of course,” she said. “You saw how he was last night when he thought you had abandoned him.”

“He was drunk,” Jared said.

“You know it was more than that.”

A small boy with golden curls ran across the lawn toward Jensen. It was Polly’s youngest brother Aubrey. He’d nearly reached Jensen when he tripped and fell to his hands and knees. The red and white ball he’d been carrying bounced away, and his wail reached all the way to the house.

Jensen turned at the sound and swept the child into his arms, lifting him over his head and tossing him in the air. Jared’s stomach flipped at the sight.

“You should go get him,” Jared said. His throat felt tight, and he held himself back from bolting toward the pair on the lawn.

“What is it?” Polly asked. She laid her hand on Jared’s arm. Jensen tossed Aubrey in the air again, and Jared tensed. “You don’t think Jensen would harm Aubie? He adores him. Jensen loves children.”

With a toss, the child’s squeal of delight reached them. Jared relaxed as Jensen hugged the child to his chest.

“You may not know him so well as you think, Polly. He’s unpredictable.”

Jensen set Aubrey on his feet, and knelt in the grass as the boy ran to fetch his ball.

“When Jensen came to live with us, we had a tutor, Mr. Fuller,” Polly said.

“I thought Jensen was your tutor,” Jared said.

She nodded. “Yes, later, but not at first. Father pulled him out of school because he didn’t want to pay for it, and Jensen took classes with the rest of us,” she said. “Mr. Fuller was humorless, a disappointment to himself, and angry at the world. Jensen was already more clever and better educated. He delighted in rubbing Sir’s nose in it.”

“Sir?”

“That’s what he insisted on being called, but Jensen could make it sound more like an insult. Jensen mocked and provoked him.” A flash of amusement crossed her face before her brow knitted. “Sir would rap us on the knuckles with a cane when we misbehaved, but with Jensen ... I’ve seen his hands swell after a day in class. I’d beg him to stop inciting Sir, but he’d say it was the only fun he had.” She looked across the lawn to the pair tossing the ball back and forth – Jensen in a pile of crumpled blue silk and the care-free child in white linen.

“Jensen tried to hide how miserable he was, how angry and hurt.” She sighed. “One day, they got into an argument. Like so many times before Jensen intentionally annoyed Sir and wouldn’t repent no matter how hard Sir hit him. Then Sir said that he should expect no better from the bastard son of a whore and that Jensen shouldn’t be allowed around good children. He’d advise Father so.”

She looked out at the lawn, but Jared could tell that wasn’t what she was seeing. She saw the scene in her memory – a bright, angry boy and a cruel, coward of a man.

“Jensen rose like a flash and struck him. Sir wasn’t a small man. He grabbed Jensen, and shoved him toward the desk, told him to prepare to be beaten.” She dropped her eyes. When she continued, it was as though Jared wasn’t there. “I knew what that meant. I didn’t want the younger ones to see, so Nancy and I took them from the room. I could hear shouting behind me, and I told Nan to take the little ones to the nursery until lunch. There was a loud crash, and when I went back in Sir was on the floor, bleeding from the head. There was blood on the edge of the desk.” She pulled her pale lips between her teeth in distress and was quiet.

“And?” Jared prompted.

She looked up at him. “Jensen looked at me so strangely and said, ‘He fell.’ I just nodded and said, ‘Yes.’ We’ve never spoken of it.”

“He fell,” Jared repeated. He’d heard that before. He followed Polly’s gaze to Jensen and Aubrey. The child now sat on Jensen’s lap.

“Father asked me what happened, and I told him just that, ‘Sir fell.’ He didn’t question it, just stared at me like ... I don’t know what, like he’d never actually seen me before. Like I was some curious new type of animal, but he said, ‘Mr. Ackles will be your tutor from now on.’”

“Your father ...” Jared was at a loss for words.

“You murdered him in cold blood,” she said.

“Had I known of his crimes, I’d have drawn out his suffering,” Jared said. “Or better yet, I’d have given him to Jen.”

“Jen?” Her eyes narrowed and searched his face. He felt the need to wriggle away from the gaze. “You really do have affection for him.”

“I’ve killed for him.”

“That was a contract, payment for his body,” she said.

Jared nodded. “I almost lost everything – my position and my ship for him.”

“You own his heart.”

“Do I?”

“Indeed,” she said.

“We are two sides of a coin.” He stepped onto the loggia, and she followed him onto the lawn. “Take my advice, Polly. Get your family back to London. Nancy is a pretty girl and of the age to make a good match. Go with them, or let her take charge. Do as you please, find adventure or love or both, but get them away from here.”

“He’s my friend, family,” she said.

“This place is his,” Jared said. “He needs it, and I’ll ... I’ll stay with him.”

She stopped him with no more than a hand on his arm. “Will you? Will you protect him?”

“Of course, Miss,” he said. “Do you think him mad?”

“What is madness?” she asked. “Sacrificing oneself for those unable to defend themselves?” She tipped her head to the side. “Tell me, what _would_ you do for him?”

The robe had fallen from Jensen’s shoulders. The wide collar was caught in the crook of his elbows. His long hair hung across his broad shoulders. Jared could almost feel the warm skin, see it like a speckled eggshell under his hands.

“Anything,” he said.

“And he for you,” she said. “You should go to him now. He makes some of the servants nervous when he’s like this.”

“Perhaps we’ll find them employment elsewhere,” he said.

As they approached the pair sitting in the grass, Aubrey jumped up and ran to Polly with outstretched arms. She swung him onto her hip even as the boy wiggled wildly and shouted “Down!”

“Looks as though you have your hands full,” Jared said.

“As do you, Captain,” the girl said with a smile. She strode away with the child still on her hip.

Jared approached Jensen who looked up with wide questioning eyes. Jared smiled and held out his hand. Jensen took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“Too warm in that, love?” Jared asked. He grasped the collar of the robe and pulled the garment back over Jensen’s shoulders. He held onto the lapels, thumbs touching over Jensen’s heart. The young man leaned toward him, tipped his head back, and offered his mouth for a kiss.

Jared smiled. “Let’s go inside, darling, and I’ll bed you.”

Jensen grinned. “Here.”

Jared’s brows flew up. “Here? No, the servants would revolt. Besides, there are children about.”

Jensen threw his head back and laughed. Sunlight caught in the depths of his emerald eyes. “Twas a jest. How bawdy do you think me?”

“I find you on the lawn in a state of undress, and you need to ask?” Jared found his fingers sliding up into Jensen’s hair to cup the back of his head. The tip of Jensen’s tongue flicked along his bottom lip, and Jared had to step back to keep from tasting that lovely mouth. “Come, let’s go inside.”

Jared threw his arm around Jensen’s shoulders as he had the night before, but this time Jensen was solid and steady. He glanced up at Jared through thick lashes with a small smile as they started across the wide green lawn.

There were two figures waiting on the loggia – Caro in wide-legged striped trousers and a red silk shirt, and a tiny, dark-skinned woman in a long white dress with a brightly colored scarf wrapped and folded elaborately around her head like a crown. When Jared and Jensen reached the top of the steps, Jared could see that her face was lined with the fine wrinkles of the very old, but her eyes were quick and bright. They were trained on Jensen. Studying him.

“This is Mama Odette,” Caro said. “She wanted to meet Jensen.”

“Me?” Jensen asked. There was an uncertainty in his tone that Jared had never heard, but Jensen stepped forward as though drawn to the wizened figure.

“Yes,” Mama Odette said revealing just a few worn down teeth in her mouth. She peered up at Jensen. “The spirits never leave you.”

Jensen’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Jared who took a step closer. Caro, who had circled around to stand beside Jared, grasped his arm to stop him. “Let them be,” she whispered.

“You have one foot in each world, and the spirits cling to you like lampreys, heh?” she said. “Yes, and they suck the life from you, boy.”

Jensen’s eyes were wet and his lip trembled when Mama Odette reached up and took his face in her tiny hands. “You are an open door, unguarded.” She nodded, and when a tear slipped from his eye, she patted his cheek. “This can be remedied,” she said and stepped back. She clasped her hands before her. “We will come for you.” She nodded at Caro, turned and walked away. Jensen stood there with tears streaming down his cheeks. Silent.

“What in hell was that?” Jared demanded.

Caro smiled. “She can help him, Captain. You’ll see.” She turned and followed the old woman.

Jared went to Jensen, and the boy leaned against him, pressed his face into Jared’s chest and sobbed.

 

 

  
“Do you want to talk about it, love?” Jared asked.

Jensen looked over the rim of his spectacles at Jared. He lounged on the settee with a volume of poetry on his lap. He’d put on trousers and a shirt for dinner. His booted feet were propped up on the low table. “About what?” he asked.

Jared laid down the periodical he was reading and tipped his head. “Jen ...”

Jensen took off the lenses and fiddled with the wire frame. He shook his head. “I ... it was like she said, about me being an open door and she was looking through it, through me. It felt … It felt like there were things moving inside me like the flutter of wings, slithering, crawling things. The other day, when I thought you’d left, I heard them, felt them drawing me to the cliff.” There was a quaver in his voice, and Jared rose, went to him, and knelt at his feet. He took the spectacles from Jensen’s hands and laid them aside, closed the book and put it on the floor. He took Jensen’s hands in his.

“Caro believes that Mama Odette can help you, love.”

Jensen nodded and stared down at their hands.

“Do you want that?”

“Yes.” Jensen looked up. “I, yes, but ... I know there’s something wrong with me. They’ve always been with me, I think, but if I weren’t this way, who would I be?”

“You would still be you, Jen,” Jared said.

There was a rustle of movement behind Jared, and Jensen looked past him to the French doors. Caro stood at the open doorway dressed all in white, including the scarf wrapped around her head.

“It is time,” she said.

 

 

  
The full moon lit the path they followed between the tall stalks of sugar cane. Caro’s figure was a pale ghost fluttering before Jensen. He followed with a stone of apprehension in his chest. Jared wasn’t allowed to come along. This was to be a healing service for Jensen, Caro had said. Mama Odette wanted him to come alone.

There was a flickering glow of firelight ahead and the sound of voices joined in a rhythmic chant or hymn. They emerged from the fields into a clearing on the edge of the woods. It was ring of men and women, all dressed in white like Caro, all with eyes on Jensen. He stopped just inside the circle, and it closed behind him.

There was a man and a woman playing drums near the fire at the far side of the ring of people, and the chanting continued as Mama Odette approached Jensen. She took his hands and led him to the center. She motioned for him to kneel, and he did. She put her hand over his eyes in silent instruction to close them.

The rhythm of the drums and voices quickened, and Jensen’s heartbeat followed. Mama Odette’s hand lifted his chin and a cup was placed to his lips. He could smell rum and spices. He let the drink flow into his mouth, but almost choked on the surprisingly bitter liquid. It trickled from the side of his mouth and down his neck. He made a distressed sound, but the cup continued to pour the foul drink down his throat until it was gone.

His stomach protested, and his body flushed with sudden heat. The drums and voices were loud and close. Footfalls stomped the ground all around him, and his heart was like a frantic animal trapped in his chest. Wings beat in his head, and something slithered in his gut. Insects scrabbled under his skin. He felt as though he was being torn apart from the inside. His fingers dug into his knees, and he bit his lip until he tasted blood. No longer able to contain it, he tipped his head and opened his mouth.

As the scream escaped his throat, the drumming and chanting became soft and low without slowing at all. The dancers had moved back to leave him alone in the center of the circle. There was a sudden, violent clawing in his belly, and his scream became a shriek as the clawing ripped up his throat and emerged like a thick charcoal fog, but buzzing and whirring like a thousand angry flies from his gaping mouth. It tasted like ash and bitter almonds on his tongue. It felt as though his guts would follow the cloud up his throat, and his body convulsed before collapsing as though boneless to the dirt.

Pain radiated from his core, out along his limbs until his fingertips felt like they were on fire, and he couldn’t bring himself to move. Exhaustion and weakness seemed to increase as the dancers circled, and the chant dimmed in his ears. The throbbing ache receded as he became increasingly disconnected from his body. It was almost as though he was rising, following the pestilence that had escaped him.

“No! Jen!”

The voice was familiar and strong, and like a hook snagging a fish, it caught and tugged at him. The pain came rushing back, the chanting, throbbing drumbeat in his head. There was shouting all around, strong hands and arms. He was lifted, but more hands tried to pull him away.

Jensen’s eyes snapped open and met Jared’s bright fox-tilted eyes. He clutched at Jared’s shirt.

“No, no, no!” Mama Odette shouted. “We must close …”

Jared stepped through the door the spirits had left through. The surprise showed in his eyes.

 

 

  
Sunlight danced off the waves and a brisk wind blew across the pier as former pirates carried the Alsby family’s baggage aboard _The Huntress_. Mrs. Alsby stood stiff and silent as she watched over the men, and Nancy corralled the little ones so they didn’t get knocked into the drink.

“Nan, do watch Aubrey there,” Polly called. Nancy turned to grab the child by the collar as he launched himself at a gull with a crab.

“I’ll miss you,” Polly said as she turned back to Jensen.

“And I you, Miss,” he said.

“Don’t you dare call me Miss,” she said. “You’re the big brother I never had, Jenny.”

He nodded. “There’s something I want you to have,” he said. He reached into the back of his collar and unclasped the braided chain. He pulled the emerald and diamond pendant from his shirt.

“Oh Jensen, no!” she protested as he clasped it around her neck. “It was your mother’s!”

“Yes, well … I’ll never have a child of my own to pass it on to,” he said. “Wear it or sell it or give it to Nan to help catch a rich husband. I’m letting the past go, Polly. It only holds me down.”

She touched her fingertips to the sparkling gem on her bosom and then smiled up at him. “You’re better, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”

Jared strode down the gangplank and came to them. His eyes reflected the blue of the sea and sky, and his smile was as dazzling as the sun on the waves.

“I think I can explain it,” Polly said.

“Hush!” Jensen said.

“Ah, and what are the two of you conspiring about now?” Jared asked.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

Jared threw his head back and laughed. “Most unconvincing,” he said. “Are you ready, Miss?”

She sighed. “As I’ll ever be.” She hugged Jensen tight. She felt so slight, but he knew she was strong. He let go.

“I’ll see you again, I think,” he said.

“Don’t doubt it,” she said. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she turned away and started up the gangplank.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Jared asked. “It will just take a couple of days to take them to Jamaica and return.”

“No, there’s too much going on with the re-organization,” Jensen said. “I’m going to be working with Idris the entire time.”

“Then I’ll hurry back,” Jared said as he drew Jensen into his arms, gave him a quick kiss, and followed Polly up the gangplank.

 

 

  
Jensen lay watching the moonlight track across the wall. It had been three days since The Huntress had set sail for Jamaica. He’d expected Jared back by early that morning, but still there was no sign. He turned his head into the pillow and breathed in Jared’s scent. Even that was not comfort enough. He was restless, and worry itched at the base of his skull. He reached out and stroked Angel’s fur. She rose in a huff and leapt to the floor.

He rolled out of bed and drew on a robe before approaching the tall doors that stood open. Palm trees threw long shadows across the lawn where the feline now stalked some unsuspecting prey. The sea lay silvery beyond. He crossed the still sun-warmed stones of the loggia and down the steps to where the grass bristled under his bare feet. Wispy clouds scudded across the face of the moon, wind rustled in the trees and night birds called. Somewhere to his left, he heard the low laughter of a woman and a man’s answering chuckle. It made him feel empty.

He looked out over the sparkling waves blotted out by the scattered masses of small cayes, and thought of the field of forget-me-nots, the yearning for oblivion, and the arms that had pulled him back from that brink. He hoped for those arms to hold him again and felt a foreign kind of apprehension. His eyes searched the horizon, and there to the right was a dark speck. It grew and came closer, and as it did, he saw that three more followed.

Jensen took a step closer to the edge. His heart was in this throat. The ship didn’t have to be any closer for him to know it was _The Huntress_ with his man, his Captain aboard. He couldn’t imagine why British naval ships were pursuing _The Huntress_ or why Jared was making a run for St. Nicks. Even if _The Huntress_ outran the war ships behind it, the British fleet would see it enter the hidden channel and follow. If that happened, all would be lost.

“You know what to do,” said a small but strong voice beside him.

He turned, and Mama Odette was beside him. Jensen shook his head. “I don’t.”

“But you do,” she insisted. “Open the door and call on the spirits.”

Jensen shied away from the idea of letting them back in.

“You control the door,” she said. “It’s your choice.”

Jensen looked back over the sea where the ships were closer, clearer, and he felt an echo of pain in his arm and side. Jared.

Jensen took a deep breath and raised his arms at his sides. The wind gusted strong, but the rustling he heard wasn’t the trees. Shadows flitted in the corners of his eyes and swirled toward him as he opened himself to them. The rush of power was staggering, and he almost went to his knees before drawing himself up and reaching to the heavens. Clouds moved in from the west with a blast of cooler wind, and thunder rolled across the mounting waves that moved in behind the British ships. _The Huntress_ raced across placid seas. As the cloud bank blocked out the moon, the ships disappeared in darkness. The flash of lightning revealed the pirate ship rounding the cayes and heading for the opening to the channel. The sky darkened again, and Jensen pulled the storm closer and pushed more energy into it.

Like the conductor of an orchestra, Jensen quieted the wind near the shore and brought it to a crescendo beyond the cayes, pulling the British ships closer and closer to the reefs and mangrove hammocks below. In a flash of light, he saw the first ship run aground and keel over and begin to break apart upon the shoals. Then, another, and third.

He dropped his arms, palms down, and the wind began to lay. Sweeping one arm to the east, the storm began to die and move away. He felt a small, warm hand on his shoulder, and he opened the door again and let the remaining spirits fly free.

“The sprits were yours to control all along,” Mama Odette said. “You just needed to have a reason.”

He heard men’s voices coming up the path from below. He ran to the head of the path and met Jared with his arm around Christian’s shoulders. There was blood on his shirt. Jensen got under Jared’s other arm to support him.

“Leave us, Christian,” Jared said through gritted teeth.

“Captain,” the first mate began to object.

“Leave us the bloody hell alone.”

Jensen nearly staggered under Jared’s weight as Christian stepped away. Jared came to halt and looked out over the once again moonlit ocean. Wreckage was scattered across the shallows and reefs. An agonized scream floated up from below.

“What have you done?” Jared asked.

“A freak storm,” Jensen said.

“I saw you, Jen. I saw.”

 

 

  
Jared half rose from the bed as he came awake with a start. A large hand in the middle of his chest pressed him back against the mattress.

“Be calm. You’re home,” Jensen said.

Home. For the first time since he was sixteen, he had a home without sails. He had something solid to return to. He had Jensen.

Jared drew a deep breath and tried to relax, but there was a burning ache in his side. He remembered standing on the dock in Port Royal. Carver stood between him and _The Huntress_ with a knife in his hand. Jared knew the governor’s guards were following him. The tide had turned for his kind. An order had been put out for him, and he knew now who had tipped off the authorities. He’d had no choice to but to rush the man. Carver was larger, fast and ruthless, desperate for the bounty on Jared’s head. Jared didn’t have a chance to draw his weapon before Carver rushed him. Jared feinted to the left letting Carver’s momentum take the man past him, but not before he felt the burn of the blade on his arm. Carver turned toward him with jab to his ribs. Jared pushed him away, and Carver lost his footing and tipped into the sea.

Christian was giving orders to cast off as Jared rushed up the gangplank, and they’d made open sea in short order. Jared wrapped his arm and side in torn strips of the fine linen Jensen had bought for their bed the last time they’d been in port together. That seemed like ages ago now, and he wondered if he’d ever share a bed with the boy again when he spied the three naval vessels in his wake.

Although they’d made brief gains and losses, Jared never lost sight of their pursuers, and as the sun set, he realized the cloudless night would offer them no cover. He sat down with his back to the rail. Blood had soaked through layer upon layer of linen, and he was weakening. It was foolish to rush to St. Nicks, but he couldn’t die on the open sea with Jensen thinking that he’d abandoned him again.

“Captain,” Christian said.

Jared could see the dark hulk of St. Nicks rising to their starboard side.

“Jared,” Christian said again as he crouched beside him. “We cannot outrun them, and we’re leading them straight St. Nicks, right to your boy.”

Jared nodded. “When you get into the channel, turn and fight.”

“They’ll still destroy us.”

“Not without a price. The shoals are our friends. There will be no winners if they pursue us.”

“Jared …”

“He has to know that I tried to come home.”

He had. He was home in his bed with Jensen brushing the hair from his forehead and smoothing the sheets. The young man’s hair was pulled back in a neat queue, and he wore a pressed white shirt and dark trousers. He looked little like the wild haired figure in the dark robe at summit of the cliffs the night before. Arms upraised, he’d seemed to direct the brutal storm that had dashed the British ships against the reefs and sent hundreds of men to their deaths.

“What did you do, Jen? How?”

Jensen busied himself with something on the side table, and then offered Jared a tea cup. “Here drink this. Mama Odette said it will help with the pain.”

“Answer me,” Jared said. It sounded more like a plea than the order he’d intended.

“I did what I had to do,” Jensen said. “With the help of the spirits.”

“You let them back in? They’re inside you? Why?”

Jensen shook his head. “It was necessary, and most of them went into the storm. The rest fled when it was over.” He held the cup to Jared’s lips. “Now drink this. Please. I can see you’re in pain.”

He was. It was making him nauseous, and he could see the worry furrowing Jensen’s brow. He took a sip of the mild tea with the strange lingering burn.

“All of it,” Jensen said.

Jared took the cup and drained it. Jensen took it and set it aside.

“It’s bad then, is it?” Jared asked as he eased back against the cushions Jensen pushed behind him.

“She says it’s up to you,” Jensen said quietly. His eyes glistened.

“Then I won’t be going anywhere,” Jared said. He felt himself drifting away. “Fought too hard to get back to you …”

 

 

  
Christian sprawled in a chair with his boots propped up on the edge of the bed when Jared awoke next. He pushed himself up into a sitting position with just a twinge of pain in his side.

“Back from the dead, are ya?” Christian asked.

“Naye, just death’s door,” Jared replied. “Where’s Jen?”

“Speaking of death …”

“What?!” Jared leaned forward and his side gave a shriek of pain.

Christian waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Looks like death warmed over, your boy does. Hasn’t slept since you’ve been back,” he said. “Sure and he’ll be back any moment. I’m glad you’re awake. He gives me the willies. We’ve lost more of the crew, no doubt.”

“What? Why?”

“Why? Why do you need to ask? Do you not remember the storm your Molly called up? What was that, Jared?” Christian’s boots hit the floor, and he leaned toward the bed. “What is he, heh? Some kind of witch?”

Jared didn’t know how to answer. Yes, he’d seen Jensen on the cliff; he’d seen the storm.

“When you can, go to the cliff and look below,” Christian said. “There’s wreckage, cannons and timbers, and bodies. The smell of death rises on the breeze.”

“He saved our skins, Christian,” Jared said.

“Aye, indeed,” Christian rose to his feet. “He did it for you.”

“And you are welcome, Mr. Kane,” Jensen said as he entered the room with a pitcher of water in his hands. “Now, if you will excuse us. The captain needs a bath.”

Christian flushed and took a step toward the door. “I’ll check in later, Cap,” he said and left.

Jensen chuckled as he set the pitcher on the bureau. He got the wash bowl from the stand and set it on the table beside Jared. Pouring hot water into it, he wetted a wash cloth and sat on the edge of the bed. Jensen pushed Jared’s hair back from his brow and washed his face.

“I need a proper bath,” Jared said.

“And a shave when you’ve rested some more,” Jensen agreed. “Maybe tomorrow. We have time now.”

“Time?”

Jensen nodded and ran the wet cloth over Jared’s neck and chest. “Yes, time,” he said. “Time to heal, time to rest, time to go to Idris and Caro’s wedding.”

“Indeed?” Jared asked.

“Yes, indeed,” Jensen replied. He pulled the sheet down farther and continued Jared’s bath. Despite the pain and weakness, the wet cloth on his fevered skin and across his sensitive nipples had blood rushing to his cock. Jensen smirked at the tented fabric and pulled the sheet away.  He placed a kiss on Jared’s belly, and Jared’s muscles twitched as Jensen’s breath chuffed against his skin. Jensen chuckled and looked up at Jared. His eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement.

He moved lower, never taking his eyes off Jared, and his tongue flicked out, swept up the bead of precome at the slit. Jared made a small sound of approval.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Jensen asked.

Jared’s side ached and his limbs were heavy with fatigue, but his dick was more than ready for the attention. “Not such a bad way to go,” he commented.

Jensen licked his lips and slowly fed Jared’s hard flesh between them. Much as he loved the show Jensen put on, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the hot, wet suction of Jensen’s mouth, the swirl of tongue, the flutter of his throat as he took Jared’s cock all the way in. Jared groaned and fisted the sheets. He couldn’t stop the shallow roll of his hips as his balls began to draw up and the tension coiled in his groin grew tight. He anticipated coming down Jensen’s throat, and resisted the urge to push Jensen’s mouth onto his cock as he tipped over the edge and his orgasm slammed into him.

The wet heat was gone, and Jared’s eyes flew open as Jensen stroked the shaft and pearly jets of come splashed across his freckled cheeks and clung to his thick lashes. Jensen’s tongue flicked out and started to swipe his lips.

“Fuck,” Jared said, “no, come here.”

Jensen crawled up over him with lust dark eyes as Jared sucked at his already swollen lips and licked his own bitter seed from Jensen’s cheeks.

“Holy Mother of God, you will be the death of me,” Jared murmured. He slipped his hand into Jensen’s trousers and found his belly slick with his own release. Jared couldn’t help laughing at Jensen’s blush. “When I’m healed, we’ll get this right.”

“Mm, I don’t mind taking care of you until then,” Jensen said.

“Taking care of me?”

“Yes, perhaps tomorrow you’ll be up to having me mount you,” Jensen said.

“Tomorrow? I don’t think I need that much time to recover,” Jared grinned.

Jensen laughed in turn and sat up. He took the wet cloth he’d been bathing Jared with and washed his face. He stripped off his shirt and wet trousers; then washed his groin and Jared’s.

“Lie with me, Jen,” Jared said as Jensen started to look for something to put on. “Please.”

Jensen slipped under the covers and put his head on Jared’s shoulder. Jared kissed his temple. “The Royal Navy isn’t going to just let me become a rum runner, Jen,” he said. “They have orders to see me hang.”

“They can’t hunt down all the lotmen,” Jensen said.

“No, just a handful of us. Me, Teach and couple more to show the others that our time has ended,” Jared said.  “They will not let me live here in peace. I’m a danger to you all.”

Jensen pressed his face into the curve of Jared’s neck and nodded.

 “But it was a nice dream,” Jensen said.

“What’s that, love?”

“Settling here in our castle on the cliff,” Jensen said. He was a silent a moment before looking up at Jared. “Where will we go?”

Jared met the steady green gaze. “We,” he repeated. “But, Jen, you fought so hard for this place.”

“I fought for what was mine,” Jensen said. He laid his head on Jared’s shoulder. “Turns out that was you. My place is with you here or on the seas, it matters not.”

Jared sighed in relief and kissed his boy’s temple. “Well then, we’ll go north, I suppose, to the Colonies.” His eyes felt too heavy to fight the exhaustion that was again overcoming him.

Jensen nodded. “And if they catch us, we’ll die together with our swords in our hands.”

 “Aye, so we will, love,” Jared murmured. “So we will.” 

 

[ ](http://sylsdarkplace.livejournal.com/58101.html)

[   
](http://sylsdarkplace.livejournal.com/58101.html) [~~Epilogue: Black Jared and Bloody Molly](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2148681/chapters/4695186)


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